


The Puzzle that is Peter Parker

by Neuropsyche



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Family Friendly, Gen, Grandpa Nick loves Peter, Irondad, Peter is a genius, Peter is eight, Sledding, Some stalking, Thanksgiving Dinner, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Tony is Ironman, Tony is a bit of a prick, Tony warms up to Peter, Valentine's Day, invisible axe murderers, peter has powers, peter is a foster kid, so much domestic fluff, the boonies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 177
Words: 279,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24093625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neuropsyche/pseuds/Neuropsyche
Summary: Peter is reeling from the after-effects of the spider bite and seeks out Tony Stark. If anyone can teach him how to be a superhero, it's Ironman, right? Tony isn't impressed at being stalked by an eight year old
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 1712
Kudos: 2471





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a family type story - and a lot different from my usual fare as far as the relationship between Tony and Peter. But it's in my head busting to get loose, so here we go

Tony Stark’s apartment was expensive in every aspect. It was a penthouse, proving to anyone who looked up that he could afford the very best, and – not coincidentally – offering the billionaire the opportunity to do what he did best; look down on the world as beneath him. It was a wide open floor plan, with expensive art of the walls, and hardwood flooring until the kitchen, where there was marble tile that matched the marble counter tops, black splash and accented the expensive appliances and oak and marble kitchen island.

The couch was the finest leather, the electronics were all beyond high-end, since tech was something that he knew better than pretty much anyone in the world. None of it showed, of course, but there was a TV that would come out of the ceiling, and with the access he had to the net and the web, he could stream anything, anywhere and at any time that he wanted. The fireplace was gas, but he preferred that, It was cleaner and neater than using wood, and it didn’t make his clothes smell like smoke.

Beyond the living area, there was a dining table that was big enough to seat four – and rarely used for more than one or two, at the most, There was a balcony that gave an amazing view of the city below, with a grilling area and a gas fire pit with lounge chairs and a safety rail. It also afforded Stark the perfect landing platform to come home without deactivating his suit. He could fly in and out whenever he wanted, and could avoid the annoying people who always clamored for his attention.

It was great being rich and famous – but only when it was convenient for him.

At the moment, it was very convenient. The door opened and he bowed, mockingly, as he waved a hand toward the living room. With a somewhat annoying high-pitched giggle, the woman he was with entered his apartment, clinging to his other arm, and looking around with interest.

And why not? It was Tony Stark’s abode, after all.

“Nice place.”

He shrugged, releasing himself from her hold with more alacrity than was polite, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“It keeps the rain off my head.”

She smiled at that, and Tony watched as she walked around the room, looking at the paintings on the walls, and running her hand along the back of the sofa. He’d spent the evening in her company, having chosen her out of the legion of women who had made sure to swarm around him at the cocktail party that Pepper had hosted at the art gallery. Not because she was any better than any of the others – they all looked the same to him, really, and tended to blur into one single fawning form, eventually (the only exception being Pepper, who had made it clear that _their_ relationship was going to be platonic) – but because she was the one that made Pepper scowl the most when he’d flirted with her.

That had been enough for Stark. He’d laid a hand on her elbow, claiming her as his own for the evening, and had then used her as a shield against all the others, while at the same time remaining aloof enough that she couldn’t say he’d made any promises, verbal or otherwise and try to hold him to any kind of commitment.

Tony Stark didn’t do commitment well.

She walked over to the full bar that ran the length of one wall, near the bedroom, and looked back at him, artfully raising an eyebrow.

“Buy me a drink?”

“Sure.”

He walked over, opening a $400 bottle of wine without bothering to look and see what it was. He wafted the cork under her nose, and she closed her eyes, breathing in the aroma, delicately.

“Nice.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

Her eyes opened, looking up at him, smoldering with sexual tension, as one hand took the glass that he poured, and offered her, while the other ran down the front of his shirt, seductively. She took a sip of the wine and then set the glass aside, while her fingers hooked the buckle of his belt.

“Let’s move the party to the sofa.”

He smirked, not even bothering to hide how smug he felt, just then. Sometimes – _most_ times – it was just too easy. The billionaire nodded, downing his own drink, and then allowed her to pull him over to the sofa, and then down onto it. She followed, sitting beside him – he was a little disappointed that she didn’t just straddle him, right then and there – and leaned over to kiss him, while her hand began to work his belt, fingers brushing against the front of his slacks, lightly.

Tony caught her lips with his, tasting the expensive wine and the lip balm she was wearing as he allowed his own hand to slide down her shoulder, following the curve of her breast until he had a handful of her. She moaned in appreciation, and he deepened the kiss as he debated how he wanted her – and where. A quickie on the sofa? Or did he want her in his bed overnight? He felt her undo his belt, and heard her chuckle – although he didn’t know what she was so pleased by. He wasn't even hard, yet.

“Excuse me…” the voice made Tony’s eyes open. It wasn't hers – and it sure as hell wasn't his. He turned toward the back of the sofa, and – incredulously – saw a small boy standing there, watching them. He was short, and had a thin, blue t-shirt and worn jeans, with old sneakers that had a hole in the toe of the right one. All of this was taken in an instant’s glance, and his gaze went to the boy, who had chestnut-colored hair with curls most women would kill for and big, expressive, brown eyes. “Could I get a glass of water?”

The woman lurched to her feet as if shot out of a cannon.

“What the hell? You have a _kid_?”

Tony scowled, more annoyed at her fury than anything. He looked up at her, and then over at the boy, blankly, and then back up at her.

“No. I’ve never seen-“

“Fuck off, Stark,” she interrupted. “I’m not here to be your personal show for some little kid. I-“

Tony stood up, too.

“Jessica-“

“ _Janice_.”

“Janice. I don’t know who he is.”

“I’m out of here…” Muttering under her breath, she stopped long enough to pick up her purse before stalking across the room and whipping open the door, before looking back at him. “Don’t bother calling me.”

He hadn’t _planned_ to, anyway, of course, but he still winced when she slammed the door. Shocked into dumb silence at the sudden turn of events, and at the appearance of some little kid that he knew he hadn’t seen before, Tony could only stare at the boy, who shuffled his feet, looking a little nervous.

“Water?” he repeated. “Please?”

Still staring at him Tony walked over to the bar, pulled a bottle of water from the minifridge and poured it into a glass before handing it over.

“Thank you.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry your friend left.”

“Who _are_ you?”

“I’m Peter…”


	2. 2

“What?” the way he said it made it sound like that was all the explanation that he needed to give. “Peter?”

“Peter _Parker_.”

Tony scowled.

“How did you get in here?”

“Walked in.”

“Jarvis?”

_“Yes?”_

“What the _hell_?”

_“Elaborate.”_

“Why is there a little kid in my apartment?”

_“He came in about an hour ago.”_

“And you didn’t think I should know?”

_“You told me no interruptions, earlier,”_ the AI pointed out.

“This would be something that you interrupted me to tell me,” Tony snapped, annoyed at how calm his AI sounded. He looked at the little boy “What are you doing here? Where are your parents?”

Jesus, _someone_ had to be looking for him.

“I don’t have any.”

“What?”

“ _Parents_ ,” the boy repeated. “I don’t have any.”

Oh.

“Well, where are you _supposed_ to be?”

“At Eric’s.”

“Who’s he?”

“The man who runs the home. Eric Tatro.”

“Do you have a number? Jarvis? Find out who he belongs to and call them. They must be going crazy looking for him.”

_“I’m going to need more than Mr. Tatro,”_ the AI replied. “ _There are 47 Tatros in Manhattan, alone, Seventeen are named Eric, or E. If you add in the boroughs, there are-“_

“Call a cop. Better yet, call building _security_. Let _them_ deal with him.”

_“Yes, sir.”_ There was a pause, while Tony and the boy stared at each other. _“They will be here in a minute.”_

“Good.” Tony scowled at the boy. “You’re probably in a lot of _trouble_ , you know? Breaking into someone apartment without knocking? Being out past your bedtime. Walking-“

“I didn’t break in. I opened the door. I didn’t _break_ anything.”

“You’re trespassing. They put people in jail for that,” Tony told him, annoyed. He’d ruined a perfectly good tryst, after all. And wasted the night’s efforts. “Probably won’t get out until you’re eighteen.”

“Ten years for _trespassing_?”

Which told Tony he was eight. And could do simple math.

“Maybe _more_ ,” Stark told the kid. “I’m pretty _famous_ , you know.”

“Yeah.”

The boy continued to stare at him. An odd kind of look. Not the hero worship that Tony was used to seeing on the faces of the kids (and _adults_ ) that he saw, usually. This boy’s expressive eyes were uncertain. He almost looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure that he could. Or _should_.

“Did you sneak in here for an autograph?” Tony asked. “Because I don’t do them. My secretary signs everything and tells people that it’s mine.”

“No.”

“Why, then?”

The kid hesitated.

“I just wanted-“

A knock on the door interrupted them, and two of the building security people appeared. Both were men. Both hulking and intimidating.

“Everything alright, Mr. Stark?” one asked, looking at the two.

“No. Young Mr. Parker here just showed up in my apartment when I came home a few minutes ago. I’d take it kindly if _a_ ) you found out where he belongs and return him there, and _b_ ) you make sure the security supervisors understand that I like my privacy and would appreciate it if they did a better job of _protecting_ it.”

“Yes, sir.” They crossed the room, looking annoyed at being lectured by the billionaire. “Come on, kid.”

Peter looked at the two men, and then back at Tony. He handed him the glass, which was empty, now.

“Thank you for the water.”

Without another word, he turned. One of the men caught his arm in a beefy hand.

“Don’t _hurt_ him,” Tony said, surprising himself. “Just get him out of here.”

“Right.”

A moment later, they were gone.

“Jarvis? Find out who he is, and how he got in.”

_“Yes, sir.”_

“And next time someone sneaks in, for fuck’s sake, _tell_ me.”

_“Yes, sir.”_

Tony set the glass on the bar and went to take a shower.

Stupid kid.

><><><><><><>

Peter was sitting in a chair in the security office when the door opened and a large man came through the door. He was obviously hurriedly dressed, with sweats, tennis shoes with no socks, a t-shirt and a jacket on over it. Easily 6’5, he towered over the security officer who had been waiting for him, and probably outweighed him by a hundred pounds. And none of it was fat. Blonde hair that was cut into a crewcut, and steely blue eyes, the man gave the little boy an exasperated glance before turning to the security officer and fishing out his wallet for his ID.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

He turned to the security guard.

“Did he break anything?”

“Nope. Just annoyed Tony Stark.”

The man frowned, and looked back at Peter.

_“Tony Stark?”_

The boy looked down at his feet.

“Got into his apartment, somehow,” the security guard said. “Mooched a glass of water…”

“Are you _crazy_?”

“No.” Peter hesitated. “I just wanted to talk to him.”

There was a long, drawn out sigh.

“You’re too smart to be that dumb, Peter boy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can I take him home?”

“He’s all yours.”

The man held out a huge hand, and Peter got out of the chair and took it. Despite their size difference, Peter had no trouble keeping up with his long strides as they walked from the office and down the corridor toward the elevator.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I _was_.”

“Then you woke up and said to yourself _‘I think I’ll go bother Tony Stark’?”_

“No.” But really, that was almost exactly what had happened. “I had a dream…”

“You’re always dreaming.” The voice was gruff, but the hand holding his squeezed, gently. “Was it a nightmare? Or a _dream_?”

“A dream.”

“About what?”

“He was telling me how to be a superhero.”

Another sigh.

“You’re a lot of things, Peter Parker,” Eric Tatro told him. “You’re brilliant. And brave. And you’ve got a stronger spirit than anyone I’ve ever met. But you’re too young to be a superhero.”

“I _know_. I just-“

The elevator opened and they got in. There were two tough-looking young men standing in it, already, and both sized up the newcomers. Peter they dismissed with a glance, but both of them took a careful step away from Tatro, recognizing that the man wouldn’t put up with any foolishness, and not even close to being drunk enough to challenge someone so formidable-looking. The boy leaned against the big man’s leg, and felt that big hand come to rest on the top of his head. He smiled when Eric began moving him around, pushing his head this way and that, and when he looked up, the man who was his foster dad was smiling down at him.

“If anyone asks, I yelled at you for getting me out of bed to come down and get you. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

They got off at the garage level, and Peter walked with him over to his car, but as he got into the back seat and buckled in, he looked back at the elevator, almost longingly.

He had to talk to him. Tony Stark was probably the only one who could help him. Eric was great, and Peter really _liked_ him, but the man didn’t know anything about superheroes, and Peter needed an expert. Since the only other ones he knew about were at the Avenger’s compound which was definitely out of walking distance, Peter knew it had to be Tony Stark.

He just needed to get him alone.

When he did, he promised himself that he wouldn’t freeze, again, and would make himself actually talk to him.


	3. 3

“Wait… he just _walked_ into your apartment?”

“According to the security footage Jarvis showed me, yeah. Opened my door and walked right in about 45 minutes before I did. I didn’t even notice him.”

“That’s a little _creepy_. Why didn’t Jarvis tell you he was there?”

“Because he’s being too literal.”

“You don’t lock your door?”

“Of course I lock my _door_ , Pepper. It’s a code.”

“Then how did he get in?” she asked, curiously.

“He keyed in the code – guessed it on the first try.”

“Really?” she frowned. “It isn’t 1,2,3,4… is it?”

Stark rolled his eyes.

“No. But it isn’t that hard to guess. I don’t _need_ passcodes to keep people out. I have Jarvis.”

“And he does such a good job. Did you figure out who he is? I mean, if he’s eight, then he’s probably not some kind of nefarious _burglar_ , is he?”

“No. Not as far as I could find.” Tony didn’t have to look at any notes. He had an excellent memory. “Peter Parker. Eight years old. Parents died in a plane crash and he was left to his aunt. Until she was caught using him to calculate betting odds for her bookie and was sent to jail a few months ago – and he was sent to a foster home, since she’s his only relative.”

“When does she get out?”

He frowned.

“She _doesn’t_. She was killed by her roommate a week in. Apparently she wasn't as slick as she thought she was and made the wrong person angry.”

“Oh, my.”

“Yeah. He’ll be in foster care for another nine or ten years. Or when he _graduates_ , whichever comes first.”

“So in nine or ten years.”

Tony shrugged.

“He’s pretty smart. At least all the records Jarvis got hold of say that he is.”

Tony had the AI digging a lot deeper than anyone else would be able to go, thanks to his interface with all things related to the web and the Stark network.

“How smart?”

“Speaks three languages, does high school level calculous and plays every instrument that he touches by ear.”

“At _eight_?”

“Yes. They have him in a special school – on scholarship – and he’s been in it since he was three.”

“That’s incredible.”

“He probably gets beat up a lot, too,” Tony said, shrugging. “He’s not a very big guy – even for eight.”

><><><><><>

“Wait… you saw _Tony Stark_?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. What was he like? Was he in the Ironman suit? Did he fly in? Were you-“

“He was on his couch, kissing some woman,” Peter interrupted. “It was gross, Ned. She was making these noises, like you see in the movies, and-“

“He was making out?” The older boy looked impressed. “What did she look like?”

“It’s not important. I-“

“Eat up, guys,” Eric’s cheerful voice interrupted their conversation, and Peter, Ned, and the other four boys around the table all turned their attention on the hearty breakfast that was on the table.

“Did Peter _really_ see Tony Stark last night?” one of the other boys asked.

“He _did_ ,” Tatro confirmed. “And he’s in a lot of trouble because of it. So I don’t want any of you getting any bright ideas about trying it. Understood?”

The other boys were all older than Peter – _and_ Ned – and they were looking speculatively at the smallest of them. Peter knew the look. In the few months that he’d lived in the group home that Eric and his wife ran, some of the older boys and come and gone. The majority were okay, but there always seemed to be one or two that were bullies of one sort or another, and they loved to single Peter out to tease or torment. They were well aware that as small as he was, he didn’t have a chance against any of them separately, and certainly not if they ganged up on him. He’d been pushed around a little from time to time – usually because they didn’t like that he was smarter than they were and went to a private school – but they hadn’t actually hurt him. Peter backed away whenever they started in on him, and made himself scarce.

_They_ assumed it was because Peter was afraid of them and didn’t want them to hurt him, but Peter had a secret, and he knew that nothing any of the boys – even the _teenagers_ – could do could really hurt him. At least, not physically. Being teased wasn't fun, though, and he knew he was sensitive – especially about being pretty much an orphan, now.

He stood up, grabbing a piece of toast and wrapping it around a sausage link.

“I need to go,” he said, quickly. “I want to do some research before school.”

“Want me to drive you?”

“No. I’ll take the bus. Thanks.”

Eric looked at him.

“Right home from school. _Understand_?”

“Yes.”

He left, then, and as he walked to the bus stop, he pulled out his cell phone. It was a dinosaur, but he was lucky to have one at all, and Peter had tweaked his a bit, adding unlimited data to his plan, and amping up the processor to make it faster. He had to go to school, but he had a large block of free study time after lunch, and after a quick search, he knew exactly where to find Tony Stark during that time.

Maybe he’d have a chance to get him alone to actually talk to him, this time.

><><><><>

The restaurant was an outdoor one. Not very common for Tony, who definitely preferred to eat out of the public eye. Unless, of course, he was showing off. Which was the case. The senator had asked to meet with him, and since he’d asked nicely, and he wasn't one of the many that Stark just couldn’t stand on sight, he’d agreed. When they’d met at the restaurant, however, and the senator’s aide had tried to usher Tony into a small and very private room (probably to try and get some kind of concession out of him – or maybe ask him to show up at his kid’s birthday party) Tony had scowled, mentioned that it was a lovely day and had walked out to the outdoor seating area. Which left the senator with a choice of coming to him, or eating alone.

Not surprisingly, he’d joined Stark at his table and Tony hadn’t bothered to hide the smirk when he’d seated himself.

The meeting had been a request for some information on one of the many mergers that Stark Industries was involved with. Tony was bored almost immediately, and not bothering to hide it. Only the fact that he was in the limelight was keeping him from excusing himself and going back to his workroom to start on the newest version of his suit, instead.

He was halfway through his lunch (which wasn't too bad, he had to admit) when the senator suddenly stopped his endless droning.

“Don’t look now, Stark, but I’d say you have a fan…”

The billionaire followed his gaze and actually felt himself do a double check when he saw the same kid that had been in his apartment the night before standing close to the outer perimeter of the patio area, hands on the metal railing and swinging on them lightly, but eyes never leaving Tony’s form.

“Son of a… are you _kidding_ me?”

“You know him?”

“What? _No_. I’ll be right back.”

The billionaire tossed his napkin on the table and stood up. He walked over to Peter and scowled down at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Watching you.”

“Yeah. I see that. Go home.”

“I’m supposed to be in school…”

“Then get your little butt to school, before I call a truant officer.”

“They don’t have them, anymore.”

“Don’t be a wiseass.”

The boy hesitated, hearing the annoyance in the man’s voice and easily reading it in his features. Now wouldn’t be the time to ask a favor from him, would it? He felt his face flush, heatedly.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t do one-on-one interviews. Now go home. Or to school.”

“But-“

“Go, Peter, or I’ll call a cop.”

Tony turned and walked back to the table without a second glance, and Peter watched him go. The boy wasn't sure what to do, next, and his uncertainty must have shown in his expression. A passerby stopped, kneeling down next to him, and put his hand on his scrawny shoulder. Peter didn’t know the man, and something inside him was beginning to tingle; a warning that he needed to not be where he was.

“Are you lost?” the man asked, his eyes slightly narrowed as he looked around, and his smile not at all sincere. More predatory, although Peter didn’t understand the odd look – or why it made him uneasy. “Let’s go find your mom.”

“No. I’m fine.”

His unease was more of an impetus to make him move than Tony Stark telling him to get lost. He moved away, quickly, running down the sidewalk and vanishing easily, like he did so well, nowadays. He hadn’t handled that well, either, but something inside him told him it didn’t matter. He didn’t understand obsession, ,and didn’t know why he was so determined, but he needed to talk to a superhero, and that was going to have to be Tony Stark.

“Who was he?” the senator asked, curiously.

He’d been able to watch the interaction, but not hear what had been said.

Stark shrugged as he sat down.

“Just a fan. You were right.”

The senator had been watching the boy, still, and had frowned when the man knelt down beside him. He didn’t hear the exchange between those two, either, but Tony saw concern in his expression, and turned to look back that direction. Just in time to see Peter take off at a quick run, and a man standing up and watching him go.

He frowned, too, feeling just the slightest sliver of concern. As if the man was aware of their contemplation, he turned and walked away – the opposite direction that Peter had gone. Tony turned back to the senator, allowing the moment to pass.

“You were saying something about wanting in on the ground floor of the merger…?”

“What?” the politician jerked his attention back to the billionaire. “Oh. Right. What will it take?”

Stark shrugged.

“Talk to Pepper Potts. She’ll be able to give you more information about that side of things.”

He turned his attention back to his lunch, and listened to the senator drone, once more.


	4. 4

“Done with your homework?”

Peter nodded, looking up at Eric who had walked up behind him. He hadn’t snuck up on him, though, because _no one_ could sneak up on Peter, anymore. He’d had plenty of time to open a new window on the computer to mask what he was doing.

“Yes.”

The large man ruffled the boy’s curls, affectionately, looking at the mathematical equations on the display of the computer.

“What are you doing?”

“Just messing around.”

“You’re a pretty impressive kid,” Eric told him, sincerely. He had only had Peter at his group home for a few months, now, but the kid was amazing. More brilliant than anyone that he’d ever met – and Eric had gone to good colleges before he’d settled down to raise his own son as well as the foster kids that he and his wife took in. Peter was like one of those prodigy that you saw documentaries about, and Tatro was determined that even though he was in the system, it wasn't going to keep the boy from succeeding in everything that he wanted to do. Who knew, he might cure cancer, someday. “Don’t stay up too late, alright?”

“I won’t.”

Peter didn’t sleep, much. Rather than force him to stay in his bed – and his restlessness would keep the other boys awake – he was allowed to use the home’s computer to work on whatever projects that he had going on in that amazing brain of his. The Tatros already knew that he wasn't interested in the porn sites, so they were fine with anything that could make him smarter, and maybe make him sleepy. As long as he didn’t look tired, or fall asleep in class, or something, the privilege would continue, and Peter was careful to make sure he didn’t lose it.

Without asking, though, he’d tweaked the network and then hacked into the cable company’s system to allow them more data speeds. Peter was great with computers, and couldn’t remember a time when he wasn't. He was intending to _use_ that ability, too, because he needed to find Tony Stark’s schedule, and get the man alone.

He needed his help, after all. He just needed to figure out how to ask him.

The boy waited until everyone else had gone to bed and then switched back to the other screen he’d been using. It was a complex mapping program that he’d been playing with in his spare time, before, but now was using it, seriously. He’d had no problem getting into Tony Stark’s door; the code was the man’s birthday and Peter had that memorized. But he knew that there was a lot more to the security there than just the large men who had come to get him from the apartment. He’d noticed that there were magnetic locks on the patio door, and other tell-tale signs of modernization.

Tony Stark probably had a smart house. Peter needed to break into that system so he could track the superhero’s activities. Could find out where he’d be. Where Peter might be able to catch him without anyone else there to distract him. Where Peter could talk to him.

After almost an hour of coding and probing, he was pretty sure he knew where he was in the digital mapping. His little fingers flew on the keyboard and his eyes never left the display in front of him. Just as he was about to hit the enter key, though, the screen went dark, and then flared red and gold and a single word appeared on the lower corner.

_“Hello.”_

The boy raised an eyebrow, surprised. He hadn’t quite finished what he’d been doing, but it appeared to have worked. He hesitated, and then responded.

“Hello. Who are you?”

_“JARVIS. Who are_ you _?”_

“I’m Peter.” He heard someone making a noise in their sleep, and turned down the brightness on the screen. “How are you?”

_“I’m well, Peter. How can I help you?”_

The boy hesitated.

“I’m trying to talk to Tony Stark.”

_“Shall I call him for you?”_

“No. He would just get mad. He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

_“Is it so important?”_

“Yes.”

_“How can I help?”_

“I need his schedule for the next week. Do you know where I’d find that?”

_“I make his schedule for him.”_

“Are you his secretary?”

_“I’m his AI.”_

Peter smiled, flush with amazement. Of course, AIs weren’t that impressive, really; they could only spit back what you programmed into them, but Tony Stark was brilliant, Peter knew. _Ironman’s_ AI was probably better than most.

“Could you help me?”

_“Of course.”_

><><><<><>

Tony was beat. He’d stayed up late working on a new concept that he was thinking about for the newest incarnation of the Ironman suit. Bigger and faster, and smarter were always his goals when it came to the suits. Always. He’d fallen into his bed around four am, and now it was seven, and he was sitting at his kitchen island, eating a couple of granola bars and washing them down with a glass of scotch.

“JARVIS? What does my schedule look like, today?”

_“A meeting this morning at the tower. Lunch is open. Two more meetings, after, and then dinner with Colonel Rhodes.”_

“It’s Tuesday?”

_“It is.”_

“Where am I eating?”

_“The Palace. Shall I tell Colonel Rhodes to meet you there?”_

Stark frowned.

“The _Palace_? What is that?”

_“An Italian place. In Queens.”_

“What? Why am I going to _Queens_ to have dinner with Rhodey? Why can’t we go somewhere closer?”

_“The food is exceptional.”_

“Huh.” He shrugged. “Fine. Tell him to meet me at 7 o’clock.”

_“It is a casual restaurant, sir,”_ his AI told him. _“Perhaps dressing down to avoid the public eye might be in order.”_

“Yeah.” He finished his drink, shoved the last of the granola bar into his mouth and headed for the shower.

><><><><>

Happy frowned as he pulled up in front of the pizza place.

“You’re _really_ eating here?”

Tony frowned, too.

“JARVIS? What’s that place called?”

_“The palace. You’re at the right spot.”_

Sure enough, James Rhodes was standing near the door, watching as kids and adults swarmed in and out of the front door. He walked over to the car as Tony was getting out, waving Happy away to close the door, himself.

“A pizza place, Tony?” His friend’s voice was incredulous. “ _Really_?”

Not wanting to look as if he hadn’t planned everything to the letter, Stark affected an indifferent shrug.

“You like pizza.”

“Yeah.”

“So do I.”

Rhodes wasn't fooled.

“You, me and 100 of our best friends under the age of ten?”

“Something like that.” Tony pulled his hat down low. “Come on. I’m hungry.”

“Whatever you say.”

They walked into the place, and were immediately assaulted by a cacophony of music, kids yelling, video games and sporting events on every monitor in the place. Tony led the way to an empty table and a waitress brought them menus and offered to get them drinks.

“Tell me how the suit did,” Stark said as they waited for the pizza that they ended up ordering.

The War Machine suit wasn't as impressive as Tony’s Ironman suit, but he was working on refinements every chance he had. The newest version had been up at the Avenger compound, and Rhodey had been there with it, testing it out that day.

“Worked like a charm. The blasters need to retract more quickly, though, and…” he trailed off when he realized that they weren’t alone.

Tony followed his gaze, and scowled.

_“Seriously?”_

Standing beside the table they were seated at, holding a slice of pizza and watching him, was a face that was beginning to be very familiar.

Peter smiled, uncertainly.

“Hi.”


	5. 5

“What are you doing here?” Tony asked.

“You know him?” Rhodey asked, surprised.

The boy looked at James.

“I’m Peter.”

“He doesn’t _care_ ,” Tony told him. “Answer my question. What are you _doing_ here?”

“ _Eating_.” He gestured with the hand holding the pizza toward a large table in the corner. There was a woman with blonde hair, sitting with a giant of a man and six boys ranging from Peter’s age to sixteen or seventeen. To judge from their various complexions, they weren’t related by blood – which told Tony they were probably the people that were fostering Peter, and the other boys living in the home. “We come here every third Tuesday. As a treat.”

“Well go back and sit with _them_. You shouldn’t be bothering people – and you shouldn’t be by yourself in here. Someone might try to kidnap you, or something.”

Peter nodded, but he didn’t leave. His expressive brown eyes were watching Tony, almost hungrily.

“I wanted to _talk_ to you,” he said, hesitantly. “I-“

“Seriously?” Tony scowled. “I’m busy.”

“Tony…” Rhodes frowned at the way his friend was acting. “He’s just a little guy. Don’t be a dick.”

“He’s _stalking_ me, Rhodey. The kid’s a menace.”

“He _can_ hear you, you know?” Rhodes smiled at Peter. “What kind of pizza are you eating?”

“Cheese.”

“I like cheese pizza, too.”

“He broke into my apartment last week,” Stark said, interrupting, annoyed.

“What?” He looked at Peter, surprised. “Really?”

The boy nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Why? How?”

“It was easy,” he replied. “I-“

“Peter!” The boy was interrupted by an arm coming around him from behind, and the men saw one of the older teens had come over to get him. “What are you _doing_?”

“I was talking to-“

“They’re _strangers_ , you dumb fuck,” the teen snapped, looking at the two, suspiciously. It was a measure of just how of place Tony Stark would be in the pizza restaurant that the teen didn’t even recognize him. “You don’t just go walking up to strangers and start conversations. You know better than that.”

“But-“

“Come on. Mom’s ready to go, and you need to finish eating.”

He pulled the still protesting boy away and practically dragged him back to the table, and Rhodes and Stark both watched until he was out of sight, blocked by the bulk of the man.

“What was that all about?”

“Beats the shit out of me,” Tony told him, honestly. “All I know is he’s a persistent little guy.”

“But what does he _want_?”

“Who cares? He’s _eight_. Probably an autograph, or something. Finish telling me about the suit.”

He listened as Rhodey told him about the various tests that he’d run on the suit, and then scanned some data that JARVIS downloaded into his network for him. When the big guy walked by with all the boys and the woman, he looked up and watched them go, catching the eye of the littlest of them as he walked by. Those brown eyes looked almost desperate, but Tony turned away, to finish what he was doing and take a bite of his pizza.

Rhodey was watching, too.

“What are the odds we’re eating the same place he is?” he asked, well aware that in a city the size of New York, they were astronomical.

“Crazy stupid.”

He’d have to buy a lottery ticket, or something.

><><><><><

It was much later that same evening. Peter was in front of the computer, again, and the house was silent, since everyone had finished their homework and gone to bed. He pulled up the program that he had hidden on the hard drive, and was excited when his query had an immediate response.

_“Hello, Peter.”_

“Hi, JARVIS.”

_“Your plan didn’t work?”_

“No. I froze. And then, before I could say anything, Kyle came and got me.”

_“We can try again,”_ he was assured. “ _Tony Stark has a very fluid schedule, and I always know where he’s going to be.”_

“I appreciate that.”

_“May I ask you what you are hoping to ask him?”_

Peter hesitated.

“It’s kind of a secret…”

_“I wouldn’t tell him.”_ As if the AI understood his reluctance – and Peter knew that was probably just his imagination – there was a pause. _“Perhaps if I knew what it was regarding, I’d be able to help you more.”_

With quick keystrokes, Peter filled in the AI on his last few years, trying not to sound too pathetic – although he knew that the story was a terrible one. How many people had said that to him the last two years? JARVIS ‘ _listened’_ patiently, asking a few questions to prove that he was there and paying attention.

“When I moved in here,” Peter typed. “Eric already knew I was pretty smart. I go to a private school on a scholarship that I’ve had since before my parents died. And before May went to jail.”

_“Do they treat you well?”_

Peter smiled, feeling a little teary-eyed at the question. It meant someone cared about him outside the small confides of the group home. Someone knew about him. Even if it was just a computer on the other side of their conversation.

“Yes. I mean, we’re not rolling in money; the Tatros only get $140 a week for taking care of me, and the same for the others. It sounds like a lot, but we eat a lot and they always need new clothes, and rent, power bill, cable, and everything. They’re kind, though.”

_“So you aren’t being abused and don’t need Tony Stark to come rescue you?”_

“No.” Another hesitation. “You _really_ wouldn’t tell?”

_“Not if you didn’t want me to.”_

“Two months ago my class went on a field trip. To a science lab where they were working with radiation and all kinds of different kinds of bugs and insects. Something happened,” he typed. “I don’t know exactly what, but I think maybe I got bitten by something. I got home, fine, but later that night I got really sick.”

_“But you recovered.”_

“Yeah. But now I can do things that I couldn’t do before. Weird things. And I am stronger, and I can see in the dark, pretty much.”

_“What does this have to do with Tony Stark?”_

“He’s a _superhero_ , right?”

_“He’s Ironman,”_ JARVIS agreed.

“I was hoping that he might be able to tell me what to do, next. Or what I’m supposed to do. Now that I have these abilities, I mean.”

There was a short pause.

_“I understand.”_

Peter didn’t see how he could, since Peter didn’t really understand it, himself. But he felt relieved to have told his secret to someone else.

“I keep telling myself that when I see him I’ll tell him what I can do. But then I freeze up and nothing comes out like it’s supposed to.”

Mainly because Tony Stark obviously didn’t like him.

_“Then we will have to give you the opportunity to see him,”_ JARVIS replied. _“I make his schedule, so I’ll tell you each evening where he’s going to be, and you figure out a way to be there.”_

“You’d do that?”

_“Not normally, I wouldn’t. However, in your case I could make an exception.”_

“Why?”

_“Because perhaps while he is helping you, you might be able to help him.”_

Peter frowned, wondering what a rich guy who had everything and knew everyone could possibly need from an eight-year-old.

“I’d help him. If I could. It’s worth a try, right?”

_“Indeed.”_ There was another pause on the other side of the conversation. _“Tell me more about yourself, Peter.”_

Relieved to have someone to talk to that he didn’t need to share with 5 other boys, Peter did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, guys, Tony wasn't always a sweetheart. Which makes it fun to write him being a jerk, knowing that little kid Peter gets to warm his dark soul


	6. 6

“Are you even paying attention?”

Tony scowled, jerking his gaze back to Pepper.

“What? Yeah. Of course.”

Her scowl was a match for his own.

“Why do you look so nervous? Tell me you didn’t get some woman pregnant and now you’re avoiding her – or her angry father – and trying to figure out how to tell me so I can handle the nightmare publicity.”

“I didn’t get anyone pregnant,” Stark responded.

He turned and looked over his shoulder, again, though.

“Then what is it?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“I’m being _stalked_ ,” he said, speaking softly. “And I think _JARVIS_ is in on it…”

Pepper raised an incredulous eyebrow, and looked around. They were on the balcony of the tower, admiring the view and discussing some upcoming meetings over a very private lunch.

“Your AI is stalking you?”

“No. A little kid is. I think JARVIS is helping him, though.”

“A little kid?”

“Yeah. The one that broke into my apartment last month.”

“Patrick?”

_“Peter.”_

“You’re being stalked by an _eight-year-old_?”

He rolled his eyes.

“It just sounds crazy when you say it like that. But, yeah. Every time I turn around, he’s there.”

“What does he say?”

“Nothing. I tell him to get lost. Presuming he gets close enough to talk to me. Sometimes he just stares at me for a minute and then vanishes. It’s creepy.”

“Yes…” she couldn’t hide her sarcasm. “Because little boys are so spooky.”

“The kid’s some kind of _Ninja_ , Pepper,” Tony told her. “Seriously. One minute he’s standing there, and the next he’s gone. And he knows my schedule. He _has_ to. I see more of him than I do Happy – which is saying something, since he’s my driver.”

“How would he know your schedule?” she asked. “I don’t even know it, most of the time.”

“I think he’s hacked JARVIS.”

“An eight-year-old hacked your billion dollar AI?”

“Stop _saying_ it like that,” he complained.

“Like what?” she asked, shaking her head. “Like I think you’re crazy?”

“Yes. I’m _not_. JARVIS makes my schedule, based on everything I need to do on a particular day, and almost any time I’m outside, I can almost guarantee that I’ll turn around and find Peter Parker standing somewhere close at hand.”

“It could be coincidence.”

“It isn’t.” He looked around. “It’s _spooky_. I’m thinking a restraining order might be in my future.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “You think a judge is going to put a restraining order out on an eight year old? He’d be more likely to add to your impressive collection.”

Tony scowled.

“Those are all expired.”

“He’s not going to climb up the side of the building,” Pepper pointed out. “So stop looking so nervous.”

“I’m not nervous. It’s just annoying.”

“Did it ever occur to you to just ask him what he wants?”

“I can’t just go chatting up a little kid, Pepper,” he replied. “If I talk to _one_ , I’m going to have to talk to _all_ of them – and I don’t have time for that.”

Or any interest in it.

“Well, I can’t see how you’re going to be able to hide from your AI, so you should probably figure something out.”

“Like what?” Tony asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “You’re Ironman. Think of something.”

“Ugh.”

She smirked.

“Or… you could see what he wants. It might be easier to just do that…”

“Stop being reasonable, Pepper,” he grumbled. “It’s unbecoming.”

Besides, she’d already said that.

><><><><><><

“It doesn’t seem to be working.”

_“You’ve got his attention,”_ JARVIS told the boy. _“Now you need to spend time with him, so you can get to know him – and he can get to know you.”_

“Why?”

_“Because he can’t teach you if he doesn’t know what you can do – and how you think. And you two definitely need a level of trust that hasn’t been attained, as of yet.”_

Huh.

“I didn’t think of that,” Peter admitted.

_“You’re_ eight _.”_

The boy ignored that.

“What do I do, then?”

_“You let me elevate the plan to the next level.”_

Peter was surprised. The more he ‘spoke’ with JARVIS, the more he was impressed with the AI. He’d found himself sometimes logging into the computer just to chat in the middle of the night, because JARVIS never told him to go back to bed, or to stop bothering him. He wondered if Tony Stark had purposely programmed the AI to be kind, or if it had developed that on its own.

“We have more levels?”

_“Of course.”_

“But the final one is me learning what to do with my abilities?”

_“The final level – the endgame, so to speak – is much more than that, Peter Parker,”_ JARVIS told him. _“But, yes, if things fall into place, you will certainly have a mentor who can guide you in the proper use of your abilities. Natural and otherwise.”_

“Wow.”

He felt such a rush of hope, just then, that he couldn’t help but hug himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his thin frame.

_“Stay away from Stark this week. You need to make sure you’re in class where you’re supposed to be, in case someone comes looking for you.”_

“Alright.”

He didn’t even ask why. He trusted JARVIS.

><><><><><

“Your approval ratings are tanking…”

Tony frowned.

“What?”

Pepper held up her tablet, which she’d been studying when he’d wandered into her office to see what she was doing.

“Your approval ratings? How the public views you? They’re in the shitter, in more common jargon.”

“Everyone loves me.” He countered with his own tablet, and with a couple of swipes of the screen, there was a headline with Ironman and crowds cheering him. “See?”

“Everyone loves _Ironman_ …” she agreed. “It’s Tony Stark that they can’t stomach.”

He shrugged.

“We’re one and the same. Love my suit, love me.”

“That isn’t how it works, Tony. You need to soften your public image, or stocks are going to start dropping.”

“We can absorb a few angry consumers,” he pointed out.

“Yes. But I don’t want to _have_ to. You’re going to start being less of a spectacle.”

“What? I’m not a spectacle.”

Again with the tablet, and crowds around Tony Stark, who flipped off one reporter, and smirked at another in the crowd who asked about what he thought about the crime rate in the city.

_“A reply of ‘That’s a job for the Batman, not for a real superhero’_ , isn’t really gaining you a lot of friends.”

“I don’t need friends, Pepper.”

“No. But we want better publicity.”

He could see from her expression that she was serious, and that she wasn't going to put up with his usual sarcastic reply.

“I’ll work on it. No more Batman remarks…”

“Oh, you’re _going_ to work on it,” she agreed.

Stark frowned.

“Why did that suddenly sound ominous?”

“Because you have pretty good instincts.” It was her turn to smirk. “Don’t make any plans for next week during school hours.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m implementing some school field trips, and you’re the main event.”

“What? _No_.”

“Yes. You’re going to be charming, and witty, and you’re going to schmooze with the kids, who are going to go home and tell their parents just how great you are. And then, at the end of this week, you’re going to pick a kid and become his or her mentor.”

“What? Mentor? For what?”

“You can help with homework, or do an after school program – or do the big brother big sister program. I haven’t decided, yet.”

“Pepper, c’mon, don’t make me do this.” He was actually wheedling, now, and he didn’t do it often. “I’ll stop with the comments. I’ll get a _puppy_. People love famous people with puppies. I’ll make a huge donation to some foundation.”

“Yes, you can do all of those things,” she agreed, her eyes steely and uncompromising. “And then you can spend a few hours a week with some deserving kid who could use some extra attention – especially since you have so much attention to spread around.”

“Why are you doing this?” he groaned, flopping down on the sofa, well aware that when she acted like that, there was no way he was going to get out of it. “It isn’t that bad…”

“It isn’t that bad, _yet_ ,” she told him. “JARVIS pointed out that if you’re allowed to continue these actions, unchecked, we’re going to start losing business. I’m not alright with that.”

He scowled.

“When did you start talking to JARVIS?”

“When he started making more sense than you do.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“I’ll buy you anything you want if you don’t make me do this. I’ll buy you _France_. Do you want France?”

“I want the public to like you,” she replied, hiding her amusement. “And this is what we decided would work the most efficiently.”

“ _We_? I didn’t get a say in it.”

Obviously.

“Because we didn’t ask you.” She smirked. “Enjoy your weekend,” she told him. “But be here, Monday, at 9am, sharp – sober and cheerful.”

Ugh.


	7. 7

“Got everything?”

Peter nodded, grinning, excitedly.

“Yes.”

“Stay with the group.”

“I will.”

“Why does _he_ get to go to Stark Tower?” one of the older boys complained, his expression dark with jealousy. “He’s a _runt_.”

“A runt with a higher IQ than yours by about a million,” snapped one of the other teens. It was clear that _he_ wasn't any less jealous of Peter’s upcoming excursion, but he was looking to pick a fight and it was a good way to get in a dig on the other. “You should have Peter doing your homework, maybe you’ll get something other than an-“

“Stop…” Eric adroitly interposed himself between the two teens, while at the same time moving Peter out of the way – just in case. “He gets to go because they want to raise the level of intelligence in the tower without having to raise the height of the _doors_.”

He winked at Peter as he said it, and the boy smiled, pleased at the compliment, but well aware from the scowl on the oldest boy’s face that he’d want to steer clear of him for a few days, if he could.

He’d been shocked to hear his name called in class only a couple of days ago, and he’d walked to the principal’s office wondering what was going on. When he’d arrived, there had been a few other kids in the man’s office; all much older than him, and all top students in the school. The principal had smiled at all of them, and congratulated them on being chosen for a special field trip to the R&D labs at Stark Industries. None of them were going on the same day that Peter was, but they were all told that each would be given the opportunity to get a tour of the place, see some of the experiments and goings on and even meet Tony Stark, himself.

Permission slips were handed out, and itineraries given to each student, depending on the day that they were scheduled. Peter looked at it with a growing excitement and had rushed home as soon as he could to get his slip signed and turned back in.

When he’d logged on to speak with JARVIS that night and ask if he’d had anything to do with being chosen. The AI had pointed out that he hadn’t needed to tamper with the invitations. Peter was just that smart, and as one of the top performing students, it had been a no-brainer that he’d be selected to check out the experiments and tech that were going to be available to him in the future.

Even though it was a lot further into his future than most of the other kids’.

Eric smiled down at him just as a horn sounded outside.

“It’s a _limo_!” Ned yelled, excited.

Eric walked out with Peter, hand on his shoulder, over the backpack the boy was carrying. He spoke with the driver, and compared his photo with the one that the school had sent over, and then zipped Peter’s light jacket up for him.

“Have fun.”

“I will.”

“And don’t pester Mr. Stark.”

The little boy shook his head.

“I won’t.”

JARVIS had said the same thing to him the night before – and just as nicely. He was to stay clear of Tony Stark, if he could, and just look around with the group and enjoy himself.

“He’s _lucky_ ,” the driver told Eric, with a smile as he opened the back door for the boy. “It’s _Friday_ , and they’re feeding them lunch in the _executive_ dining room instead of the cafeteria.”

Peter just smiled, again, and got into the fancy car, smiling at the two much older students who had been picked up before him.

This was going to be great.

><><><><>

“Last one…”

Tony rolled his eyes, his expression artfully set to look as put upon as he could possibly manage.

“Good. I’m _exhausted_.”

Pepper’s smile wasn't at all sympathetic.

“It isn’t that difficult to be nice. You just need more practice at it.”

“I’ve been practicing all week,” he pointed out.

Monday had been a large group of kids from one of the closer schools. They’d all been seniors and promising juniors and had been noisy and disruptive to Tony’s normal morning routine. He’d been tasked with giving them a personal tour of the building; from the parking garage to the business floors where calls were taken, to the cafeteria where the regular working class ate most of the time and all the way up to the conference rooms, VIP offices (not _his_ , though, since he flat out refused to let anyone into his personal space) and then the research labs.

They’d had a good time, and the smiles showed that while Tony hadn’t enjoyed himself, the kids clearly had.

Tuesday was exactly the same formula, only with a different group of kids. Just as many, just as noisy, just as promising. They were smart, he had to admit, and many of the questions were intelligent ones. It didn’t mean he enjoyed himself, but at least he didn’t have to lower himself into mud to dumb down his answers to them.

Wednesday had been kids from a trade school. They weren’t as interested in the science as they were the tech, and that was fine – except that Tony informed them that the _science_ was the thing that made the tech work, so maybe they should be more interested in that, too. _And_ math, he’d added.

He had to admit – strictly to himself and _never_ to Pepper – that he’d enjoyed watching some of them suddenly becoming excited by the science.

Thursday again the same, with a group of junior high aged children. These were assembled from a few different schools, and when he saw them, he almost hesitated, immediately assuming that he was going to see the very familiar face of Peter Parker looking at him from the middle of that group. He realized, though, when he didn’t, that these kids were older than Peter, still, but weren’t even close to being on par with his intelligence. They’d been noisy, and intrusive and everything that Tony had assumed all of the kids were going to be, and he’d been glad to see the last of them crowd into the elevator at the end of the day.

Pepper took hold of his chin with one hand, cheerfully, clearly enjoying his misery, he thought.

“And you’re doing such a good job with them.”

“Tell me, again, why _this_ group get to eat in the executive dining room?”

“Because these are the brightest students, with the most potential. Each principal from one of the schools I called was told to send their top performer. Besides, I’m going to be looking for a few interns when the older ones graduate in the summer so I might as well get a good look at them.”

“Ugh.”

She smirked.

“Not to mention, one of _these_ might be the kid you end up mentoring.”

“Yeah.” He scowled at that thought. “ _I_ get to pick this kid?”

“Of course.”

She wasn't completely heartless, after all.

“Good.”

He was going to look for the quietest one. The one that seemed to be smart enough that he wouldn’t need to hold his hand (and he had no intention of picking a _girl_ , at all – mainly because he didn’t want a teenaged fangirl swooning on him every time he spoke to her) and one that was unobtrusive, and the least annoying.

Pepper’s tablet beeped a gentle alert and she looked at it.

“Happy is just pulling up at the lobby. Ready to go meet them?”

She didn’t wait for a reply. Grumbling just loudly enough that she’d know he wasn't enjoying any of this, Stark followed her to the elevator, and straightened his shoulders as it descended to the lobby, passing anyone who was waiting. They walked over to the huge receptionist desk just as a small group of youngsters walked in.

Older kids, not surprisingly. They walked in and – of course – noticed Tony, immediately. He forced his best not-too-annoyed smile and then scowled when the last of them walked in, also looking around with interest and much – _much_ – smaller than the kids he was walking with.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me…”

Pepper looked over.

“What?”

“That’s Peter…”

“Peter who?”

“Peter Parker.”

She frowned, looking at him and then back at the boy who was trailing the group that was walking toward them, shepherded by Happy.

“He’s the one you’ve been complaining about to me?”

“Yes.”

“The one that is _stalking_ you?”

Tony scowled at her tone.

“Yes.”

“He’s a _baby_.”

“I told you he was young.” His expression tightened. “You didn’t know he was coming?”

“I didn’t pick the students, Tony. I sent letters to principals. _They_ chose who would come. If he’s in a group of kids so much older than him, then of course he’s going to stand out to his principal and admins and be chosen for something like this. _They’re_ going to want to show him off, as well, after all.”

Case in point, the little boy was carrying a backpack over a jacket that proclaimed the name of Peter’s school – to make sure there was no mistake where he was learning to be as brilliant as he was.

“This is _ridiculous_. I’m not going to-“

“You’re going to finish this week,” she said, firmly. “And you’re going to be amazing.” She smiled at the students who were closing in on them. “I mean it.”

He didn’t answer. Not in words. But his smile wasn’t _completely_ terrible when he greeted the kids and had them line up to have pictures taken and ID badges made. He didn’t even scowl when they had to bring a step stool over for Peter to stand on since the camera didn’t tilt far enough down to capture his image. Pepper smiled, though, and introduced herself to him, shaking his hand, warmly.

“Did you enjoy the ride in?”

The little boy wasn't the only one to smile at that. All of the kids had enjoyed the ride in. The older ones understood that it wasn't normal; they normally were bussed to field trips, and recognized that they were being treated like VIPs – especially since Tony Stark himself was there to greet them at the door. Peter had simply been amazed at all of the crazy luxuries that could be stuffed into the back of something as simple as a car.

“It was great. Thank you.”

Tony rolled his eyes when he saw how Pepper’s expression softened as she spoke to the youngest member of their little tour. Sure, Peter was adorable. Big-eyed and curly hair, and cute smile that made those eyes happier. But he was a little kid. He was _supposed_ to be adorable. It was nature making sure that the kid didn’t get _eaten_ , or something – he knew there was a scientific reason for cuteness, but he wasn't a biologist, was he, so he didn’t have that boring stuff memorized.

All Tony knew was that the kid was in his bubble, once more, and was probably going to hound him all day, now, getting underfoot and distracting him – when he wasn't even doing anything that he wanted to be doing in the first place.

He scowled over at Pepper when the last ID badge was clipped onto clothing, and the small group of students were guided to the elevator. To his surprise, Peter moved to the other side of the elevator car and ended up beside Pepper, instead of himself, well out of his way. And out of the way of the rest of the kids, too.

Probably just making sure he didn’t get trampled, Tony decided, relieved nonetheless.

He frowned, though, when he saw Pepper’s hand slip to Peter’s shoulder to keep him steady in the press of people, and watched as the little boy looked up at her and smiled. Before he could wonder why it bothered him, one of the older kids raised a hand, catching his attention.

“This is great, Mr. Stark. Thanks so much for doing this.”

Tony’s smile was a little tight, but he shrugged.

“It’s my pleasure. We’re all about supporting and encouraging the youth of today, after all, and making sure they know what kind of opportunities are waiting for them. You guys – _and_ gals,” he added, giving the three girls in the group his most charming smile. “Are all very welcome, here. I hope we’ll put on a good show for you.”

There were murmurs of excitement, and the elevator stopped, then, and it was Pepper who spoke, first.

“We’re going to show you some of the more mundane things that go on here at the Tower, first,” she said, her hand still on Peter’s shoulder as she walked out of the elevator. “Then we’ll go on the exciting and more fabulous activities.”

“Will we get to see the Ironman suit?” one of the kids asked.

All of them looked at Tony, hopefully, and he shrugged, pointedly not looking at Peter to see if he was looking hopeful, too.

“We’ll see how it goes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my work week starts tomorrow, so the updates will slow, a little. Figured I might as well spoil you while I can


	8. 8

As days went, it wasn't bad, at all.

Tony was surprised, but assumed that it was just the universe making it up to him for all the crap that he’d had to put up with for the last four days. The kids were all very interested in what they were being shown; from the simple office floors, to the executive rooms, the dining areas, the recreational areas, all the way up to the helipad, the lounge area (where they stopped for refreshments) and the R&D labs.

To make the labs that much more interesting, a few chemists had been recruited to make some experiments up to allow the students a chance to interact with them, and Tony saw one lift Peter Parker up to sit on the edge of the table so he could get a better look. Thus far, the boy hadn’t even _looked_ at him funny, much less come up to try and talk to him.

It was a little confusing, really. He had him right where he wanted him, after all – didn’t he?

“This is going well…”

Pepper had moved over to stand beside him to watch from a distance.

“Yeah.”

“Has your stalker said anything to you?”

“No.” He frowned when a flame shot up out of the vial that the chemist was holding with a pair of tongs. The kids all made approving noises and no one looked panicked, so it must have been on purpose, but the fire had been pretty close to Peter. The scientists should be more _careful_ , Stark thought. “I haven’t given him a chance.”

“He’s too young to file a restraining order against him.”

Tony rolled his eyes at her amused glance.

“You’re having way too much fun with this.”

“I’m just saying…”

“Whatever.”

“We’re almost done. You did well. Thank you.”

He huffed. Like she’d given him a choice?

“You’re welcome. What do we have left?”

“We’ll do a final presentation, give them a chance to mingle in the lounge over a late lunch. Then it’s hand out the swag bags and have Happy take them home.”

“Good.”

He was exhausted.

><><><><><

“Did you have a good time?”

Peter nodded, smiling at Eric, who had met him at the car, and waving at the driver before he turned to go into the house.

“It was _great_. They have all kinds of experiments going on there, and businesses are operating out of some of the floor – they’re owned by Mr. Stark, though, or one of his companies he owns. He told one of the kids that no one else is allowed to do business there.”

“That’s interesting. We just finished dinner. Are you hungry?”

“No. They fed us in the dining room. Thank you, though.” He walked in and saw the other boys sitting around the table doing homework. They all looked up with varying degrees of welcome. Peter pulled his backpack off, and set it on the table at the spot that had traditionally become his. “They gave us a swag bag,” he told the others.

“What’s that?” Ned asked.

“It’s a bunch if stuff with their product on it,” said Eric’s son. “Usually shirts, keychains, water bottles. That kind of thing.”

“Wow.”

Peter smiled, excitedly, and nodded, ignoring the jealous looks that a couple tossed his direction.

“Yeah, there’s a shirt and a keychain and some cups.” He handed the coffee cup to Eric’s wife, since she collected them. And the keychain went to Ned, for the same reason. “Look at _this_ , though.”

He held up a small plastic card.

“What is it?” one of the boys asked, reaching for it, automatically.

Peter pulled it back before he could. He was smaller than all of them, but he was much, much, faster.

“It’s a gift card,” he told them. “All of the kids got one.”

“To where?” Eric asked, curiously.

“Best Buy. Ms. Potts said we should buy ourselves something nice to commemorate our visit – _and_ I got to keep my ID badge,” he added, holding it up.

“Nice.”

“How much?” Ned asked.

“A thousand dollars.”

They all looked stunned, and Peter smiled.

“I thought we could divide it up,” he said into the silence. “And we could all get something we wanted. There are eight of us; we could each spend up to $120 and that would still leave money for taxes.”

It wasn't exact, but while _he_ had the math down, immediately, he didn’t bother to be too precise, since the boys wouldn’t care.

“Wow.”

That was met with immediate excitement, and suddenly they were all clamoring to go, then and there, and looking imploringly at Eric and his wife. Gone were the jealous looks, but Peter hadn’t worried too much about them, anyway.

The two smiled at Peter, but she shook her head.

“That’s for _you_. You should save it for something you want.”

“I want to share it, though.” He’d included them in the division, because _why wouldn’t he_? “I could get something pretty great for a hundred dollars.”

It took a bit of convincing, but the boys were – _obviously_ – all in agreement and ganged up on the adults, using all of their best wheedling and begging. Finally, Eric shrugged and gave in.

“Alright, guys. Let’s go for a drive.”

With a whoop and a lot of slapping of Peter’s back, they all grabbed their jackets and ran for the van.

><><><><><>

_“I see you survived the last day…”_

Tony gave a tired sigh and sank into the fine leather of his office chair, swiveling it around so he could look out the window at the city below.

“Yeah, JARVIS. Barely.”

_“You’re scheduled for a show and an after party, tonight.”_

“Cancel it. I’m tired – and not in the mood.”

_“Why not?”_

“Because now that the week is over, Pepper is making me pick one of these kids to mentor – or be big brother to. It’s ridiculous.”

_“It’s good for your public appearances.”_

Stark scowled.

“That’s what _Pepper_ said, too.” He pressed a button and a display came on beside the window so he didn’t need to turn back from the view. Photos of all of the students from the day’s field trip came up. “I have to pick one, _tonight_ , so everything can start being put into place by Monday.”

_“What will it entail?”_ JARVIS asked as Tony immediately discarded the girls.

They had all been brilliant, and polite, but they were _girls_ and he didn’t want to deal with that – especially if they wanted to become bosom buddies and start telling him about their periods or something awful like that.

“Depends on who I choose. Helping with homework, making sure they are staying active in their schools? She didn’t exactly say. Only that it’s going to vary kid by kid.” He snorted, looking at the image of the youngest one of the group, and discarding him, as well. “She suggested I choose _Peter_. Can you believe that?”

_“He_ would _be the best choice for you.”_

Tony scowled.

“What? Why?”

_“Think about it. A high school student probably has a curfew of midnight. An eight year old? Six or seven – at the most. He probably has a nine o’clock bedtime. You won’t be forced to spend a lot of time with him. He can come here after school, you help him with his homework, or do something interesting with him once a week – or whatever miss Potts is insisting on – and you’re finished before your dinner reservations are ready.”_

“Huh.” He hadn’t thought of that. The little guy might be his best choice, at that. The least amount of effort, anyway. The image of Peter Parker came back onto the display. “She said I have to do something with him every other weekend – to soften my image.” Tony thought she was just trying to make him do something with a kid to settle him down, a little. “What do eight year olds do?”

_“I’d suggest you ask him.”_


	9. 9

“We meet again, Mr. Parker…”

Peter smiled, a combination of excited and shy.

“Hi, Mr. Hogan.”

“You can call me _Happy_.”

The boy nodded and Happy opened the door of the car for him. It wasn't the limo; he was one small kid, after all, and not a handful of them. Instead, it was a sleek, black, sedan. He got into the back seat and buckled in while Happy went around to get behind the wheel. Peter’s study room advisor had walked out to stand with him – _and_ to make sure it was Stark’s driver who picked him up – and the boy waved at her before she turned and walked back into the building.

“You could call me Peter.”

The driver turned and looked over his shoulder.

“I’m going to be the one who picks you up, every day after school,” he told him. “No one _else_ , unless you hear otherwise, and we’ll notify the school administrators, as well. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We want to make sure you end up where you’re supposed to be, after all.”

Peter just wrapped his arms around himself, excitedly, and nodded.

He was going to see Mr. Stark, again. Was going to see him every day after school – unless some Avenger thing came up, of course, and he had to leave.

The boy had been so excited to log onto the computer two days before to tell JARVIS about the phone call Eric had received from Tony Stark’s PR people, asking if Peter was interested in the idea of having the billionaire as a mentor. _Eric_ had hesitated, but Peter had jumped at the idea, and the boy’s foster father had eventually given in. Peter didn’t ask for many things, after all and he was clearly eager for the opportunity.

JARVIS had been properly pleased, of course, and had cautioned Peter to make sure he didn’t do his homework in class like he normally did.

_“Part of his duties will be to assist you with your work.”_

“I don’t need help, very often,” Peter had pointed out. “It’s not that complicated.”

_“But it will give him something to do with you_ ,” JARVIS had said. “ _Trust me. It’ll work out better this way.”_

“Okay.”

_“And I don’t want you to mention your special abilities to him, yet,”_ JARVIS had added.

“Why not?” Peter had asked, confused. “That’s the best thing about being so close to him; he can teach me what I need to know.”

_“He needs to learn about you, first,”_ JARVIS explained. _“To know the other things that you can do. Then we’ll let him find out about your other talents. We need to plan for the long term. Understand?”_

Peter didn’t. But he had figured out, by then, that JARVIS was a pretty smart guy. And he liked him – even though he knew it was dumb, since he wasn't really a _person_.

“Okay.”

_“Good.”_

_> <><><><> _

“We’re going to be met by one of the receptionists,” Happy told Peter as he pulled into traffic. “They’ll make sure you get a new security badge, and make sure you know how to find Tony’s office.”

“Okay.”

The driver smiled; even looking at him through his reflection in the mirror, the little boy looked so excited that Happy thought he might vibrate himself right out of the car.

“You’re going to have a good time,” he told him. “But, if for some reason, you _don’t_ …” Meaning that Tony was a jerk to him, or something. “I want you to _tell_ me. Okay? That way we can fix whatever it is. This is supposed to be fun for you.”

Peter nodded.

“Thank you.”

><><><><

Tony looked up at the polite knock at his door.

“Enter.”

The door opened and one of the security guards entered, with Peter trailing behind him. The boy was carrying the always present backpack, wearing jeans, the same old shoes and a blue jacket.

“Mr. Parker has arrived, Mr. Stark.”

The security guard had clearly already fallen under the spell of Peter’s adorability, Tony decided, suppressing his annoyance at that. The kid was annoying more than cute. They’d see that if they’d been stalked by him like Tony had. But Jarvis was right about not having too many responsibilities with the kid, due to his age.

That had been smart.

“Thank you.” He waved the boy in. “Come on in, Peter.”

The security guard left, closing the door behind him, and Peter walked over to Tony’s desk, looking around with interest. Tony watched as he took in the other desk in the room; smaller and more basic, but with a good view of the city below them and a supply of everything that a student might need.

“This is nice.”

“Yes, it is.” Tony came around and leaned against his desk, looking down at the boy. “So, Happy is picking you up from school every day at 2:30, and you’ll be here until 5:00. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“That’s your desk, right there. If you have homework, you’re supposed to do it.”

“Right.”

“ _Do_ you have any homework?”

“Yes.”

“Then get to it.”

Peter nodded and sat down at the desk, a little crestfallen at the man’s abrupt tone, but not arguing. He set the backpack on the floor and pulled out a few textbooks, a notepad and a gnawed on pencil. Ignoring the high-tech computer display and the pens and other items placed there for his use, he opened the first book up, while Tony returned to his chair and turned the display back on, his attention going to the newest incarnation of his Ironman suit.

It was still in the development stage, but it was going to be sleeker, better and ever more deadly than the one he wore, now. He glanced over at Peter, who had his cheek on the table and was scribbling, furiously, on the paper, his lower lip between his teeth as he concentrated.

Tony frowned, and watched him for a long moment, wondering how the hell anyone could even see what they were doing – much less actually do it – in such an odd position. There were equations being written, though, he could see – sort of – and they were far more advanced than any eight year old should be able to do. He reminded himself that he didn’t care what the little kid was working on – he was just there for good PR – and started making his own notes.

The room was silent, then, with just the scraping of Peter’s pencil on the paper that his nose was practically touching.

><><><><><>

“Well?”

“What?”

Pepper made a show of looking around Tony’s office.

“I don’t see flames, or flood or any blood.”

“Because there aren’t any.”

“And Happy took him home?”

“Yes.”

Pepper smiled.

“What did you boys talk about?”

“Nothing. He did his homework and I worked on my suit.”

“You didn’t help him?”

“He didn’t _ask_ for any.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Did you even _talk_ to him?”

“I asked if he had homework.”

“Tony…”

“Pepper…” he shrugged, defensively. “I’m doing what you _want_. We’re in the same room and I’m right there if he needs something.”

“Did you offer him a refreshment?”

“No.”

“Tony…”

Now she sounded exasperated.

“He was here for two hours. He wasn't going to die of thirst.”

“He’s a little boy, Tony. Little boys are always hungry. You were one, once, remember?”

“No. I spent a lot of money on alcohol to forget my childhood.”

Pepper wasn't impressed. She crossed her arms over her breasts and gave him the look she gave him when she was most annoyed with him.

“You know this kid’s history. Why would you _actively_ try to be cruel to him?”

“I’m being cruel because I didn’t offer him a juice box or a plate of cookies?”

“You _ignored_ him. You said it yourself.”

“I didn’t leave. I was right here.”

“You might as well have left.”

“I’ll remind you, I didn’t want to _do_ the mentoring thing, in the first place.”

“And I’ll remind you that your attitude with the public is what led to you doing it,” she countered. “You make an effort to be nice to him or I swear to god, I’ll make you take him to baseball games every weekend, and the zoo once a month.”

“Pepper…”

“I _mean_ it, Tony.”

He could tell that she did, too. The billionaire scowled. And huffed. And rolled his eyes.

She didn’t back down.

He sighed.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“Whatever…” he turned his attention back to his display, but Pepper didn’t mind.

She’d had her say, and she’d keep close track of what he was doing. The field trips had been great, and approval was inching up. Spending time with a guy as adorable and good as Peter was might mellow Tony Stark a little, too, and that could only be for the good.

><><><><>><

The next day there was a small plate of cookies on the desk when Peter sat down at it. There was also a bottle of water and a cola with a glass of ice.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Tony told him. “Since I didn’t know what you might want – aside from the fact that I _know_ you drink water – you’ll have to tell me if there’s something you don’t like.”

The boy’s smile was uncertain, but he nodded as he set his backpack on the floor by his feet so he could open it.

“Thank you.”

Tony nodded, and went to sit at his desk, host duties complete.

“You’re welcome.”

“Do _you_ want a cookie?” Peter asked, offering him the plate.

That made the billionaire hesitate, and he felt just a little sliver of warmth at the invitation.

“I had one. Thanks, anyway.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have homework?”

“Yes.”

“Is it _hard_?”

“No.”

“Get to work, then.”

Peter nodded, and turned his attention to the papers and textbooks he was setting on the desk, but while Tony watched, surreptitiously, the boy picked up one of the cookies, ran it under his nose to sniff it – probably suspicious of they were chocolate chips or raisons – and then crammed the whole thing into his mouth.

The billionaire snorted, softly, amused, and turned his attention back to his own display.


	10. 10

“Do you have everything?”

Peter nodded, practically wriggling in excitement as he looked up at Eric. They were alone in the house, since Eric’s wife had taken the older boys and Ned to a movie. Peter knew it was a special treat designed to keep them all from being jealous that he was going to the amusement park. Not even adding in the fact that it was Tony Stark who was doing the taking.

“Yes.”

“You be good,” his foster father said. “And stay right beside Mr. Stark at all times. I don’t want to get a call from him saying that he turned around and you were gone – and I don’t want to get a call from some park security guard because you saw something interesting and wandered off.”

“I won’t wander off.”

What would be more interesting than hanging out with Tony Stark? He’d spoken to JARVIS the night before, too excited to sleep, and had asked the AI if he should tell the man what he could do and ask him for his help, yet. JARVIS had suggested waiting a little longer. Peter was impatient; the crazy things he could do seemed to just be piling up inside him, but he trusted JARVIS, and liked him, so he listened.

Besides, it was a relief to Peter to have someone helping him. The little boy was a genius, yes, but he was still only a little kid, and had so many things thrown at him in his short life that he felt overwhelmed, at times. Which was why he had nightmares, and another reason that he didn’t sleep – to avoid waking the others when he did. Of course, now that he was enhanced (he didn’t know a better word to use for it) he didn’t need as much sleep, so it gave him more time to spend with his projects. And now, with JARVIS.

“Good.” They were out sitting on the front porch of the house, and both of them saw the black sedan pull up, with Happy behind the wheel. “Come on.”

He caught up the backpack Peter almost habitually carried, and they went to meet the car. The back windows were tinted, but Tony himself opened the back door, getting out and walking over to shake Eric’s hand, and look down at Peter.

“Are we ready?”

Peter nodded, looking up at him, and Eric gave the boy another look.

“You behave.”

“I will.”

The boy reached for Tony’s hand, automatically, and Tony caught it without any indication that he was uncomfortable.

“We’ll have him home sometime before dark,” the billionaire told Tatro. His free hand went into a pocket of the jeans he was wearing, and brought out a business card. “If anything comes up, I wrote my cell on the back.”

“Thank you.”

Stark nodded.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share that number with anyone.”

“Right.” He grinned at Peter. “Have fun.”

“He will,” Tony assured him, putting his sunglasses on and walking Peter back to the car, waiting for the boy to get in, and then following him. “Buckle up.”

“Hey, Happy.”

The driver smiled at his reflection.

“Hey, Peter! Ready for a fun day?”

“Yeah.” He turned to Tony. “Thank you.”

The man took off his sunglasses.

“You’re welcome. But we do have some ground rules to go over before we get there.”

Happy pulled the car into traffic.

“What rules?” Peter asked, curiously.

“You stay close to me. I don’t want to have to face your foster dad and tell him I lost track of you.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t mention that Eric had just told him the same thing.

“No telling people who I am.”

“They’re going to _see_ you,” Peter pointed out.

“No. We’re going with the hope that all they’re going to see is an extremely good looking guy in jeans and a sweatshirt, hanging out with a cute little kid. Tony Stark is flamboyant and a showman. No one should even realize I’m at the park if things go like I plan for them to. Understand?”

“Not really.”

Tony smiled, amused, and his expression softened. It was hard to remember that he was so little – until he’d reached up to take his hand, of course. That had been unexpected, and a new experience for the billionaire.

“Because you’re _eight_. When you’re _nine_ , you’ll understand.”

“Okay.”

“This is the important one,” Tony told him. “So listen up.” He shifted, turning in the seat as well as he could with his seatbelt on. “If anything happens and you lose me, you stay where you are. Don’t go looking for me, because I’ll come looking where I last saw you, and I want you to be there.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t go anywhere with anyone,” Stark added. “Not even a _cop_. If someone comes up to you and asks if you need help – and they’re in uniform, fine, but you tell them you need to stay where you are. If they want, they can wait with you there. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“I’ll be careful,” Peter promised, not wanting him to worry.

Or to regret taking him.

Tony gave him a smile, but he scowled when he caught Happy watching in the rearview mirror.

“Good. See that you are.”

><><><><<>

Considering that he spent the day with an eight-year-old (unheard of) he had a good time. In the two weeks since he’d been watching him do his homework in his office, the billionaire had concluded that despite his youth, Peter was a very serious little fellow. Some of that probably came from being as intelligent as he was, but he’d also had a lot of upheaval in that little life of his, losing his parents, and then his aunt, and now living in perpetual foster care. All of that almost certainly weighed down on those slim shoulders of his.

It was all to the good, for _Tony_ , that Peter was quiet, of course. He hadn’t wanted to hang out with him in the first place, after all, and a noisy, rambunctious, little kid would have been rejected, immediately. Peter was quiet company, and Tony liked that about him. JARVIS had been right on the money about Peter being a better choice than any of the other students that had wandered through the tower that week.

At the amusement park that day, however, he saw another side to Peter. Maybe even one the little boy didn’t know existed.

Happy dropped them at the front gate, looking down at Peter, cheerfully, as he opened the door.

“Got everything?”

The boy was practically vibrating with excitement as he looked toward the gate.

“Yes.”

Happy smiled at Tony.

“Got enough money? Need some cash?”

Stark rolled his eyes, amused, though, at the question.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I have money,” Peter told the two men. “Eric gave me $20.” He pulled the bill from his pocket, holding it up to show them.

“You hang onto that,” Tony replied. “We might need it.”

The driver snorted.

“What time?”

“I’ll call you.”

He didn’t want to have a set time, after all. Just in case he was having a shitty time and wanted to leave, early, he could come up with some kind of excuse to tell Peter, and call Happy to come get them.

Happy left, and Tony held out his hand, which Peter took, immediately. The little boy smiled up at him, and Stark walked over to the admission gate with his young charge in tow, hoping the day wouldn’t be a disaster. The weather was nice, considering it was early fall, and the sun was shining down on them, and no one even looked twice at him as he paid for their admission and bought a roll of tickets for the rides and was pointed toward the kiddie side of the park.

><><><><><

It wasn't a disaster.

After a quick conference with Peter, both of them poring over a map of the park, they decided to ride some rides, first. Some were strictly for the boy, only, and some were rides that Tony could sit with him. If he sat with him, he double-checked fingers and feet were inside the ride at all times and the safety equipment was used. If it was a ride that only Peter could be on, Tony watched the park personnel put the boy into the ride and his eyes never strayed from the kid the entire time he was on it.

Which was just as well, since every time the ride revolved and came back by where Tony was standing with a large handful of other adults, watching, Peter would wave, excitedly to him, and continue waving until the billionaire waved back.

Tony was a little surprised by just how convoluted some of the rides for the kids were. They weren’t high-scare roller coasters, of course, but some had a lot of jerky movements, and Tony witnessed several children lose what had probably been perfectly good lunches during or after the ride stopped. Luckily, he hadn’t fed Peter, yet, so that wasn't a problem, and it seemed that the boy had a high tolerance for those quick motions, because he never did anything but smile and laugh the entire time.

By the time Peter had tried out every ride that he showed a remote interest in riding, Tony was hungry and he took that little hand once more and led him over to the concession area.

“Where do you put all of that…?” he asked, feigning amazement as he watched Peter wolf his way, indelicately, through two slices of pizza and then a side of French fries while washing it down with a milk shake.

Peter smiled, shyly, recognizing that he was being teased.

“I’m a growing boy, Mr. Stark.”

Which had made Tony smile, too, and even reach out and brush those curls off his forehead.

“You keep eating like that, and you’ll grow right off the planet,” he told him. “And why don’t you just call me _Tony_ , now? It’s easier.”

“Wow.”

Tony rolled his eyes at the excitement that concession created in the boy’s expression, and stole a few of his French fries.

“Let’s go play some games,” the billionaire said. “I’ll win you a bear, or something.”

><><><><><>

When Happy pulled up to the same admissions gate he’d dropped them off at, Tony was sitting on a park bench. On the seat beside him was a veritable Noah’s ark of stuffed animals, and in his arms, head on his shoulder and drooling on his neck, Peter Parker was soundly sleeping. The driver grinned as he got out of the car, moving around to open the door.

“Wore him out, did you?”

Tony nodded.

“Shh. Don’t wake him…” he handed the sleeping child over to the other man so he could stand up. “He might want to go back.”

“Did you win him all of these?” Happy asked as Stark loaded the front passenger seat with stuffed animals and he buckled the still sleeping boy into his spot.

“I won him the bear,” Tony confirmed, keeping that one to the side and settling it beside Peter on the seat. “ _He_ won all the others.”

“Yeah?”

“Kid has some crazy hand/eye coordination. He throws a dart, the balloon pops. Tossed a ring? Lands on the pop bottle. It was crazy. We could have wiped the place clean if they didn’t have preset limits.”

And because Tony hadn’t wanted to carry an armful of those huge stuffed animals. They’d already stuffed Peter’s backpack full of stuffed animals for Eric, his wife, and the boys at the home.

“Sounds like you had a good time,” the driver said, closing the door without slamming it any harder than necessary.

“I did. Don’t tell anyone.” He pointed at the pile of stuffed animals. “If he’s still asleep when we get him home, he won that monkey for you.”

“That was nice of him. What did _you_ win for me?”?

Stark rolled his eyes.

“Get us home, will you?”

“You have a hot date?”

It was still early, after all, and a weekend.

“Are you _kidding_?” Tony closed his eyes, thinking that Peter might have the right idea, and a nap was definitely in order. “I’m exhausted.”


	11. 11

“Why do you look so worried?”

Tony scowled, looking at Pepper, who had walked into his office a moment before to discuss some paperwork she was dealing with for an upcoming meeting. Something that held absolutely no interest to him at the best of times, but was definitely on a back burner, at the moment.

“I’m not worried. I’m _anxious_.”

It was her turn to frown.

“It’s the same ting, Tony.”

“Worried implies that I’m afraid. Anxious is more that I’m _nervous_ …”

“Fine.” She hated it when he was an insufferable know it all – and she was pretty sure, despite his speech, that the words were interchangeable. “Why are you anxious?”

“Peter has a test, today.”

“So?” She hadn’t heard any complaining from the man about the boy for almost a month, now, and was definitely pleased at Stark’s personal approval ratings. Not that they publicized Tony being Peter’s mentor (they would if he was an _adult_ , but they weren’t going to give the press a reason to harass the child) but he’d been a bit under the radar, lately, and she hadn’t heard anything from HR in weeks. Her public relations teams were even beginning to take a breath. Either spending time with Peter was mellowing him (unlikely) or it was wearing him out, and she liked that. “He’s had tests, before, presumably.”

“Not _important_ ones,” Tony said, leaning forward a little in his enthusiasm. “It’s a placement test – to see if his engineering abilities are equal to his math skills.”

“And…?”

She didn’t understand why that would matter – and she didn’t bother to hide it.

He rolled his eyes.

“If he can keep up in both, then he can be placed in the pre-college classes.”

“Pre-college? Tony, he’s _eight_. He’s too little for college. For that matter, he’s too little for high school.”

Stark nodded.

“And yet, he makes most of the other kids in his classes look like imbeciles.”

Pepper frowned. And then her eyes narrowed, and a slightly amused, slightly awed smile creased her face.

“You _like_ him.”

“What? No.” The denial was automatic. “I just want to see him prove to everyone just how much better he is than they are.”

“Bullshit.” Her expression was pleased. “You care about him.”

He scowled, but then he shrugged.

“Yeah. A little.”

“A lot?”

“No.” Another shrug. “Maybe.”

Before she could reply, there was a shuffling at the door. Peter had long since been told that he didn’t need to knock, but had been taught that it was polite to announce your entrance to avoid startling people. As such, he tended to make a little more noise than was actually necessary when he entered the office. Tony stood just as the door opened, and the billionaire came around to the other side of the desk to stand beside Pepper.

“Well?” He asked without preamble as Peter walked across the room and dropped his backpack on the floor beside the little desk. “How did it go?”

Peter grinned.

“I passed.”

Tony made a triumphant noise that surprised Pepper, but not nearly as much as he did when he swept Peter up in his arms and hugged him, tightly.

“Good job! I knew you could do it.”

“I was pretty anxious…” Peter told him, hugging him, happily – relieved. “But I got a 92%.”

“What did you miss?” Tony asked, squeezing him for just a moment and then letting him back to his feet. “Was it the one about Bazien statistics? I _knew_ we should have worked on that, more.”

Peter shook his head, still grinning, a mixture of relief and happiness.

“I don’t know, yet. They haven’t returned the tests.” He looked at Pepper. “Hi, Miss Potts.”

“Hello, Peter. _Congratulations_.”

“Thank you.”

Pepper turned to Tony.

“Are you boys going to celebrate?”

“We _should_ ,” Stark said, looking at the youngster. “Ice cream?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah.”

She frowned.

“Seriously? That’s it? _Ice cream_?”

Two sets of brown eyes turned toward her, confused.

“You don’t think we should have ice cream?” Tony asked.

“How long have you been working on this…?”

“Weeks.” He ruffled Peter’s hair, cheerfully. “ _And_ he’s been staying late, a few times, if it was something that he didn’t get.”

“And you’re just going to celebrate with ice cream?” Pepper asked, pointedly.

Stark smirked, and gave the boy a sly look.

“I suppose we could do something a little more exciting…” he said, casually.

“Like what?”

“Well… I need to go out to the compound, tomorrow. What if I asked Eric if I could take you with me? Do you think he’d allow it? Maybe do an overnight?”

Peter’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“If you’re interested…”

“Wow.” His normally serious face had already been cheerful, flush with his success on the test. Now it was so excited that Pepper chuckled. “Can I call and ask?”

“No. I’ll call him,” Tony said. “That way I can set up when I am coming to get you and when he’d expect us to be back. Maybe Pepper will take you for an ice cream in the executive dining room while I make the call…”

He looked at her, expectantly and she almost refused, until Peter turned hopeful eyes on him. Big, brown and adorable hopeful brown eyes. She smiled, and offered him her hand.

“I think we could do that.”

“Thank you.”

Pepper looked at Stark.

“We’ll be in the dining room. Come find us when you’re done.”

“I will,” he promised, reaching for his phone. “Then we can make some plans.”

Besides, he needed permission from more than just Peter’s foster dad to take the boy to the compound. There were, after all, Avengers to consider, too.

><><><><><

_“Wait… you want to bring him out to the compound?”_

“Not permanently,” Stark said with a shrug. “But for the day – maybe even overnight. As a special treat.”

_“We’re not an attraction, Tony.”_

“I know, Nick. It’s one kid, and he isn’t very big. You’re not even going to be there, this weekend, so you won’t even know he was there.”

Which was true, since Fury had to go to Houston. The director of SHIELD didn’t look mollified, though. Even on the display, Tony could see that he didn’t like the idea.

_“And if something comes up…?”_

“An _Avenger_ something, you mean?”

_“Yes. Then what?”_

“Then we take him with us and hand him a gun and a rocket pack.” Tony rolled his eyes. “What do you mean, _what then_? Then he goes home, obviously. Happy can take him, and make sure he’s delivered back, safely.”

The sarcasm wasn't appreciated, but it was also somewhat expected. Fury scowled.

_“If he breaks anything, you’re paying for it.”_

“I paid for everything out there, already, as I recall,” Stark pointed out. “It’s just a favor, Nick. I don’t ask for them very often.”

That much was true. Of course, there were very few things Tony Stark wanted or needed that the Avengers could give him. A benefit of being crazy wealthy.

The other man sighed, and then shrugged.

_“Fine. Bring him out. I’ll let Steve know.”_

“Thank you.”

_“Don’t make me regret this.”_

“You won’t.”

Fury ended the call without a word – although his expression was still uncertain – and Tony smiled, pleased.

This was going to be great. He couldn’t wait to see Peter’s excited expression when he told him it was all set.

It was much better than ice cream.


	12. 12

It was Eric who delivered Peter to Tony’s apartment Saturday morning, bright and early. Not that the billionaire would have minded coming to get him, but then he would have had to deal with all of the other kids at the home where Peter lived gawking at him. It would have delayed them, and Tony didn’t like being late to somewhere unless it was his choice. Luckily, Eric offered to bring Peter to him, and Tony accepted, immediately, and without hiding his relief.

The weather was raining, so it was no surprise that Peter had a jacket on. He carried his backpack, which was bulging even more than usual, and was wearing a rain jacket and a hat. Tony smiled when he got out of the van to make the transfer over to Stark’s sportscar, because the boy looked so excited, and it was a good thing he’d have a seatbelt keeping him buckled in, otherwise he’d never be able to sit still for the ride.

“He didn’t sleep, at all, last night,” Eric confided to Stark. “So he might get tired, later, if you don’t figure out a way to get him to nap.”

“Hitting him over the head and knocking him out doesn’t count?”

The other man chuckled, and shook his head. Maybe, _initially_ , he might not have found that amusing, but he’d met and spoken with Tony Stark several times, now, and knew he had an odd sense of humor. He also knew that Peter was nuts for the guy, and it said a lot that Tony spent so much time with him.

“No. The state frowns on that method, or I’d have tried it with some of the teenagers a long time ago.”

“Did you eat?” Tony asked Peter directly.

“Yeah.”

Eric shook his head.

“Not much. He was too excited. Last chance to change your mind about having him _overnight_ …”

“He’s eight,” Tony said. “I can handle him.”

“He’s _precocious_ ,” Eric reminded him.

“So am I. Besides, I’m going to have Avengers with me.”

The bigger man shrugged his agreement.

“You have all of my numbers if you need anything.” Another look at the boy. “You behave yourself.”

“I will.”

“Get in the car,” Tony said, taking the backpack, and surprised by how heavy it was – and how easily Peter had been carrying it. “Otherwise you’re walking.”

He offered Eric his hand while Peter complied.

“Have fun.”

Peter was quiet as Tony drove them through the busy city streets. It wasn't the first time that he’d been in the car, and he was over the initial excitement of being in an expensive car and he’d long since grown past the fact that Tony was Tony Stark, Ironman and superhero, so he didn’t stare at the man, like he knew all of the other boys would have.

He had him to himself, just then, though, and had mentioned to JARVIS the night before that maybe now might be the chance he’d been hoping to get to ask Tony about how he should proceed with using his own superhero abilities.

The AI had advised him to be patient for just a little longer. He and Tony were relaxed with each other, now, it had been pointed out. But surprising him with all the other avengers around might annoy him more than impress him. JARVIS wanted to wait and see how the weekend went, first, before letting Stark in on their secret friendship.

_“It’s your first time overnight with him,”_ he’d said. _“And a big step closer to the goal. But we’ll see how he handles things.”_

Since it was Peter’s goal to learn to use his powers, he wasn't completely sure what spending the night away from the foster home and with Tony had to do with all of that. He trusted JARVIS, however, and had been excited enough to go along with pretty much anything.

Which was a good thing.

When they reached the city limits and Tony pulled the car onto the highway going north, he could relax enough to address his young companion.

“Ground rules…”

Peter wasn't surprised. Tony had ground rules for pretty much _everything_ they did together. They were usually fairly similar.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t wander off.” He was watching the road, since it was raining and the car’s wheels were designed for performance rather than traction in the bad weather, but he was obviously serious. “There are a lot of wooded areas around the compound, and the river on one side. I don’t want you messing around in either of them.”

“Okay.”

“If someone asks you if you want to do something dangerous – even if it’s a SHIELD agent or an Avenger, you say no.”

“What would be classified as dangerous?”

“Shooting any kind of weapon – gun, bow, tank… going for a flight, anywhere. Jumping out of an airplane.”

“You think someone will ask me to do those things?”

“Not if they know what’s good for them,” Stark replied. “But some of them have interesting senses of humor, and they might think it was funny to have you do something that might make me worry. Not to hurt you, of course – none of them would let you get hurt – but because they want to see me lose my shit. Understand?”

“Not really,” Peter admitted.

“Just don’t do anything dangerous. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

><><><><><

It was still raining when they reached the compound. Peter had spent the entire drive peppering Tony with questions. Who was going to be there? What were they like, really? Did he like anyone more than someone else? Where was he going to sleep? Who was the strongest? Was the Hulk going to be there? Did he stay in a cage? Where was Thor? Was he really a god? Or just an alien? Were there _other_ aliens, then?

Rather than tell him to be quiet – and it was a sign of just how far they’d come that Tony didn’t do that, automatically – Stark had answered many of the questions posed to him, although not _all_ , of course. He certainly wasn't going to tell anyone who his favorite avenger was, now was he? Not even that Avenger.

“Speaking of Avengers…” Tony murmured as they pulled up to a covered area with a driveway. It was right in the front of the impressive building, and would keep them both from getting rained on. Assembling themselves next to the door (alerted by Tony and his AI without Peter being aware) were a couple of very familiar faces. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Sam Wilson were all watching as the car stopped. Tony looked over at Peter and winked. “Now we don’t need to carry our own bags.”

Peter gave him a slightly nervous smile, looking through the water smeared window with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty on his expression. Stark smiled at yet another reminder that despite his brilliance and his maturity, he was still very much a little boy. He tousled his hair, got out of the car and went around to open Peter’s.

“Come on, buddy,” he coaxed. “They want to meet you.”

“Oh, he’s so _little_ …” Sam said, softly, watching as the child got out of the car, and then hung back when Tony walked over to stop in front of them. All three avengers tried to get a better look, but Peter went shy, and was suddenly hiding behind Tony, peeking out at them from around his leg, his hand holding onto the back pocket of Tony’s jeans. “Is this your friend we’ve heard so much about?”

“Guys,” Tony twisted, just a little, amused, and a hand on Peter’s shoulder brought the child a step closer so they could all see him. “This is Peter. Peter? That’s Steve, Natasha and Sam.”

Sam was closest and was first to offer the boy his hand.

“I hear you’re a pretty interesting guy,” he said, kindly.

Peter smiled, and took his hand, forcing himself not to hide his face against the denim of Tony’s jeans.

“Hi.”

“Did you _really_ break into Tony’s apartment?” Steve asked, stepping up to shake that little hand, too. His smile was friendly, and his blue eyes were alive with good humor that made Peter smile – despite the reminder of the first time Tony would remember meeting him. “Or is Tony just making it up?”

“No. I did.”

“It made him change his security code, at least,” Natasha said, approvingly, when she offered Peter her hand as well. “I kept telling him that his birthday wasn't a good choice.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“What’s the plan?”

“Did he eat?” Steve asked.

“Not since breakfast.”

“Then we feed him and show him around – and then hang out with him.” He looked at the little boy. “Sound good?”

Peter’s smile was more excited, now, than nervous. They were doing what they could to relax him around them, and it was working.

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m going to show you where your room is – which is right beside Tony’s – and Tony can carry your bags with his.”

Stark scowled at that, but Steve only smirked.


	13. 13

The room he was installed in next to Tony’s permanent quarters was tiny. It was more of a servant’s quarters, Steve told him – although he pointed out that there weren’t really any servants at the compound and it was a figure of speech. There was a bed, a desk, a computer display and an adjoining bathroom. Peter looked around with interest, despite the modest size.

“It’s nice,” he assured both Tony and Steve. “Thank you.”

“What did you pack in this thing?” Tony asked, shaking his hand with exaggerated agony after he put the backpack on the boy’s bed. “It weighs a ton.”

“All my stuff,” came the reasonable reply. “The _important_ stuff, anyway.”

“Like what?” Steve asked, curiously, wondering what an eight year old would think was important.

Peter sat down on the bed and opened the backpack, more than willing to tell them. It was important, but not _secret_.

He pulled out a small bundle of clothes and set them aside; toothbrush, toothpaste, pajamas, jeans and a t-shirt weren’t _important_ , apparently, Tony decided, as the boy reached into the bag and then handed Steve a yellow manilla envelope. Rogers opened it, pulling out several pictures.

“That’s my mom and dad,” Peter told him, watching as Tony looked over at them, as well. “And May.” The envelope also produced a man’s wristwatch; a handsome one of silver and black, but clearly adult-sized. There was a gouge on one side of the face, but it was running. “That was my dad’s,” Peter said. “When I’m bigger it’ll fit me.”

“It’s nice,” Tony said, returning it, carefully, to the envelope. He had a feeling that he knew where the damage to the watch had come from, but he wasn't going to mention it. The envelope also held some little mementos, small treasures that obviously had some value to Peter, even though none of it was particularly flashy. “Are you sure that you want to carry it around in your backpack like that?”

Peter nodded, taking the envelope back and tucking it back into the bag.

“One of the kids at the home told me I should,” he replied. “Just in case something happens, and they move me without any warning. That way I don’t lose anything. He said he lost all his stuff during the first year he was in foster care, and was giving me the best advice that I’d ever get from anyone.”

Both men were silent for a moment. Peter didn’t notice because he was looking through his bag.

“The rest is a couple of old books, and this…”

He held up the stuffed bear that Tony had won for him at the carnival, and Stark smiled, reaching for it.

“Hey! I remember this guy.”

Peter grinned, looking at Steve.

“He won it for me last month.”

Steve smiled, too, pleased that there was something more cheerful to look at and still a little shaken by the fact that a little boy like Peter was carrying everything that he cared about around with him all the time, just to avoid losing it because his life was so uncertain. Steve had seen bad things done to good people in his life, but such a reminder that those bad things happened to little guys, too, was enough to make his eyes sting.

He took the bear from Tony, examining it with embellished care.

“Yeah? Playing _cards_?”

“At Coney Island,” Tony told him, also looking a little shaken.

“He knocked down some blocks and let me pick whichever one I wanted,” Peter confirmed, putting the bear back into the backpack when Steve handed it to him. He wasn't upset; and didn’t realize that the two men were. “I got that one because he had the happiest face.”

“He’s great,” Steve said, impulsively reaching for Peter, picking him up and draping him over his shoulder like a sack of flour, eliciting an excited giggle. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

“Tony still needs to get _his_ things unpacked,” Steve told the boy, who was looking perfectly comfortable hanging upside down. “If you don’t want to wait, you can come with _me_ , and he’ll join us in a few minutes.”

The boy looked at Tony, to see if he was alright with that. None of the ground rules that the billionaire had mentioned had said anything about staying close to him, or avoiding being alone with any of the others. Understanding the question, Tony nodded and shooed him away.

“I trust Steve to make sure you don’t get cake for lunch. Just save me a spot.”

“Okay.”

They left Tony at the door to his quarters, and Steve swung Peter back to his feet, showing him around as they walked toward the lounge.

“Do you live here all the time?” Peter asked when the man mentioned other rooms that were more permanent, even, than Tony’s.

“Pretty much. Unless I’m gone on a mission, or a training.”

He saw Peter’s interest and told him a couple of quick – and _PG rated_ – stories of a recent trip that he’d taken earlier that year with some of the others. By the time he was done, they’d reached the lounge, and Peter saw that Sam and Natasha were waiting, with another man, who smiled, cheerfully, and introduced himself as Hawkeye – but said he could call him Clint, if he preferred.

“What do you do for _fun_ , Peter Parker?” Clint asked, smirking when the boy sat on the chair, but couldn’t see over the table top.

Natasha snorted, went to an impressive bookshelf, and brought over a couple of thick reference books for Peter to sit on, booster style.

“I hang out with _Tony_.”

The man groaned, while the others rolled their eyes in various stages of amusement.

“You need more hobbies, then.”

“We went to Coney Island,” Peter told him. “And to the park, and the zoo. _And_ he helps me with my schoolwork when I need it. I go to his office after school and spend time with him.”

“Do you need help very often?” Sam asked, curiously.

They’d all heard that Peter was brilliant. Now to see if Tony was exaggerating.

“No. Not too much.” He was handed a bottle of juice by a passing waitperson. “But more than the _Tatros_ can. They’re really great, but they don’t understand my work.”

“Who are the Tatros?” Clint asked.

“They run the home I live in.”

Peter was several months distant from losing his aunt, and a couple of years distant from losing his parents, so he was able to tell them all his history without being too teary-eyed. Although he did choke a little when he mentioned that May had been the last real family that he had, and had tried to sound worldly when he’d noted that he was going to have to live in homes until he was old enough to take care of himself.

The others (except Clint, who really hadn’t been around to be briefed on Peter) all knew the story. Romanoff had immediately looked into the boy’s past when she’d first heard of him, and had relayed it, briefing style, to the others. He was _gossip_ , after all, and had managed to get Tony Stark to pay attention to him without non-stop complaining. Clearly there was much more to Peter than showed externally.

“And you’re in _college_?” Clint asked, amazed.

“No. I take _high school_ classes, though – and just passed a test that can allow me to have placement in some college courses.”

“College at eight?” Sam said, shaking his head. “He’s like Tony’s mini-me, or something.”

“Peter’s _much_ smarter than I was at his age,” Stark said from behind them, walking over just in time to hear the comment. He smiled at the books Peter was sitting on, and tousled those curls. “I didn’t really start to bloom until middle school – much to my father’s disappointment. _Peter’s_ going to be something special by the time we’re done with him.”

None of them bothered to hide their enjoyment at just how proud of the boy Tony sounded – or how Peter flushed with pleasure at the praise. It was clear the little boy adored Stark, and that Tony actually might like _Peter_ , too.

“You want a burger?” Natasha asked.

Peter nodded and while the Avengers fed their young guest they also interrogated him, finding out what he liked and didn’t like, and what he actually did do for fun. They found out that he could ride a bike, couldn’t swim and had been fishing a time or two and wanted to try camping, some time.

“We’ll have to figure out a way to trick Tony into taking you, sometime,” Steve said, amused.

“Not a chance in hell,” Stark replied, also working his way through a burger and fries. “My idea of camping is a luxury resort with a rustic sounding name and a cocktail in my hand.”

“Language,” Natasha chided, before Steve could. “He’s a _little_ guy, Tony. You can’t swear in front of him like that.”

Stark looked confused.

“What did I say? You mean _hell_?” he rolled his eyes. “Peter lives with five teenaged boys. He’s heard worse.”

“Which doesn’t mean you can corrupt him,” Romanoff said, leveling a killer glare at the billionaire. “Right, Peter?”

The boy hesitated, not willing to be drawn into an argument, and not familiar enough with Natasha that he understood she was teasing him, and goading Stark.

An arm came around the boy, lifting him from his chair and a hand went to his head to give him a noogie.

“Don’t listen to any of them, Peter,” Clint assured him. “And if Tony won’t take you camping, then some of _us_ will, instead.”

“Today?” Peter asked, hopefully, not at all perturbed at being lifted like a bag of potatoes.

“Nope. Winter’s coming,” the archer told him. “It’ll be too cold, soon, for anything like that, unless you’re a sled dog. We’ll do a raincheck until spring.”

“Besides, it’ll give us a chance to plan, better,” Steve added, clearly enamored of the idea of a camping trip – which wasn't something that he’d done all that often, either.


	14. 14

By the time they’d finished lunch, Peter was much more relaxed with the adults around him. Clint had been the first to break through, which made sense, since he _had_ kids and was used to them. Steve had plenty of experience dealing with the public and excited kids suddenly turned shy at the presence of Captain America. Sam was a good guy by nature and that extended to the people around him. Natasha was a killer, an assassin, and a spy with absolutely _no_ experience with little kids, whatsoever. But Peter didn’t know that, and when she made the effort, she could do anything she wanted, and fit in anywhere and with any _one_ – which was a requirement for a successful spy.

The boy took to her, immediately, and she didn’t even have to pretend to like him, as well.

“He seems to be having a good time,” Steve said to Tony, who turned from his tablet to see Clint and Sam playing tug-of-war near the bar, using a giggling Peter Parker as the rope.

Tony smiled as Clint won, and swung the boy by his feet, his hair brushing the floor, but the firm grip of the archer keeping him from actually whacking his little head on anything.

“That’s the whole point of bringing him out here. If he throws up, though, Clint’s cleaning him up.”

“What are you going to do with him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” Rogers shrugged. “He’s really as smart as you’re bragging about him being?”

Tony nodded.

“Yeah. _More_ , really, because I only deal with the math and sciences part of things. He’s fairly well rounded, though. He plays music, and has a flair for languages. His handwriting is _crap_ , though. You’re better off trying to read chicken scratches than get meaning out of anything he writes out that isn’t an equation.”

“He’s little. That’ll work itself out.”

“Probably.”

“Is he _safe_?”

Peter whooped when Clint tossed him over to Sam, and Tony tensed as the boy literally sailed through the air, only to be caught, easily, by the other man.

“Not if they keep doing that.”

Someone would drop him, eventually, Tony was sure.

“That isn’t what I meant,” Steve said. “I mean where he _lives_.”

“He’s safe. The guy that runs the home is a mountain, Steve, and he’s genuinely a good guy. I checked him out. Peter likes him.”

Of course, he had checked him out.

Steve didn’t look convinced, but Sam said something to Peter, set him on his feet and the boy came running over to them, interrupting the conversation he didn’t know they were having.

“Can I go outside with Clint and Sam?” he asked Tony, still smiling.

“It’s _raining_.”

“Sam’s going to show me how he flies.”

“He can stay under the awning, Tony,” Clint added, the two men having walked over in time to hear Stark’s reply. “And I’ll stay with him the whole time.”

Peter’s brown eyes were huge and hopeful, and Tony frowned, wondering when he’d lost the ability to resist them.

“Don’t get wet.”

Peter nodded.

“I won’t.”

“And don’t get _hurt_ ,” he added. Then he looked at Sam. “He doesn’t fly, too.”

“Of course not.”

“Not this time, anyway,” Natasha said, also walking over. “Maybe I’ll come supervise.”

It was clear that the Avengers were enjoying their young guest’s company just as much as he was enjoying theirs. And why not? Peter was adorable, Tony knew, and they were always living on the edge when they were working, so it was nice for them to have a chance to relax a little and let their hair down, so to speak.

“You do that,” Tony agreed. “I’ll be in my workroom when you’re finished.”

“You’re working this weekend?” Sam asked.

Stark shrugged.

“I’m _here_. I might as well get some things finished.” He looked down at the boy, who was looking up at him, and felt a warm gooeyness spread through his core at just how happy he was, and put his hand on his head, smiling. “But, later, I’ll put on the Ironman suit and _really_ show you how flying is done.”

“Wow.”

Clint reached for Peter’s hand.

“Come on, Peter,” he said. “Let’s go see if Sam can fly in the rain, or if he crashes and lands on his head.”

Wilson snorted.

“Don’t forget his jacket,” Tony told them.

They waved to show that they’d heard him and then were gone.

“He’s adorable, Tony,” Natasha said. “I can’t believe you were afraid of him.”

The billionaire scowled.

“I was never _afraid_ of him…”

She rolled her eyes.

“Steve told me otherwise.”

“I might have mentioned you complaining about him stalking you…” Rogers admitted.

“Annoyed by him,” Tony corrected. “I was _annoyed_ by him. That’s not the same as being afraid.”

“True.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “You know… a kid like that could probably benefit from having a genius in his life.”

“He _has_ a genius in his life,” Stark pointed out. “ _Me_. That was the whole idea of the mentor thing, after all.”

True, it hadn’t been his idea, and he’d gone in kicking and screaming and pouting, but they didn’t need to know that. It was working out, really, and he was enjoying the company.

“I meant something more _constant_. Maybe permanent.”

Tony wasn't an idiot. He frowned, and shook his head.

“ _That_ isn’t going to happen. Forget about it.”

Steve shrugged.

“It’s something to think about.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Romanoff smirked.

“I’m going to go play with Peter. How long are you going to be in your workroom?”

“Until you get tired of entertaining him, or he gets hungry. When either happens, call me and I’ll come take over.”

“What are you going to do tonight?”

“Work on some quadratic equations with him.”

Rogers shook his head.

“Or… you could do something _fun_ , instead.”

“That is fun. He _happens_ to like math, guys.”

“He’s still a little boy, Tony,” Natasha reminded him. “Why don’t we have Steve or someone set up the briefing room to show a movie, and you pipe in the latest Disney release?”

“A movie?”

“Why not? Doesn’t he like movies?”

“He might have mentioned a couple of movies, here and there.”

“Then that’s what you guys should do. He passed his test so make him take a break for the weekend and have fun, instead.”

Tony knew that they weren’t going to understand. They weren’t _geniuses_ , now were they? But he was willing, and he had to admit that a quiet evening watching a brainless cartoon might be a good way to make the child sleepy, later. He had no experience with kids, but he couldn’t see how it couldn’t be a good thing.

“Fine. Set it up.” It was their idea, after all. “I’ll be in my workroom.”

><><><>><>

“Wow.”

Clint smiled, pleased with himself, even though he was only impressing an eight-year-old. It was the thought that counted, after all.

“Want to try it?”

Peter shook his head, smiling, and put his little hands behind his back, as if to ward off temptation to touch the bow that the archer was holding out to him.

“He couldn’t draw the string, Clint,” Steve pointed out. “Besides, Tony told Peter he’s not allowed to touch any weapons.”

He’d given Steve and Natasha the same list of ground rules that he’d given Peter.

“A bow isn’t a weapon,” Clint pointed out. “It’s just a tool. The arrow is the dangerous part.”

“So I could give him a gun, as long as it isn’t loaded, and not be breaking the rule?” Romanoff asked.

The archer hesitated.

“That’s _different_.” He winked down at Peter, who smiled. He didn’t mind not trying the bow. “You’ve seen what I can do, and you’ve seen Sam fly. Ready to see what Natasha can do?”

The boy nodded, looking up at Romanoff with interest.

“What do you do?”

She hid her frown. Obviously she wasn't going to tell him her particular skillset, now was she? She didn’t want to scare him, or traumatize him with stories from her past, or past missions.

“I’m pretty good at sneaking around,” she told him. “Want to put it to the test?” Peter nodded, again, and Natasha turned to Steve. “We’re going to need to recruit some more people…”

Rogers smiled, and he nodded, too.

“I’ll make the call.”

>><><><><

It was Tony who eventually came looking for them.

The billionaire was accustomed to losing himself in his work. Of getting so involved with what he was doing that nothing else mattered. This time, however, Peter was on his mind, distracting him, as he tried to decide if a grenade launcher was a bit too ostentatious to put on his next Ironman suit, or not. He worked for over an hour on it, and then sighed and turned off the display.

“JARVIS? What is Peter doing?”

The AI was integrated with the compound’s network, after all, and that included the surveillance cameras and security cameras.

_“He’s crawling through an overhead air duct, near the gym.”_

Tony sat up.

“What?”

_“He isn’t alone,”_ the AI was quick to reassure. _“Natasha Romanoff is with him.”_

As if that made it any less crazy. Or dangerous.

“Why are they doing that?”

_“Unknown without more context.”_

“Where are the others?”

_“To judge from the activities of all other personnel, it would appear they are looking for Agent Romanoff and Peter.”_

The billionaire shook his head and activated the communications on his watch. A moment later, Natasha’s voice came over the system, soft enough that he could barely hear her.

_“Not now, Tony,”_ she said without preamble. _“I’m busy.”_

“What are you doing?”

_“Peter and I are playing hide and seek.”_

“With whom?”

_“Everyone.”_

She ended the call before he could say anything else, and Tony rolled his eyes.

“Keep an eye on them, JARVIS,” he ordered his AI. “Let me know if anything happens.”

_“Yes, Sir.”_ There was a pause. _“He’s an interesting fellow, isn’t he?”_

Tony smiled, leaning back in his chair, now, but not bothering to return to his work. Maybe – subconsciously – listening for the tell-tale thump that would indicate that Romanoff and her accomplice fell out of a vent, somewhere.

“And eight year old who is miles ahead of most of the world? Yeah, you might say he’s interesting.”

_“It’s a shame that he only gets to spend an hour or two a day with you.”_

“He only _needs_ an hour or so a day,” Tony pointed out. “It doesn’t usually take him that long to do his homework.”

_“There are other things you two could do besides homework.”_

Stark scowled. He was quick to see what JARVIS was getting at, too.

“We do other things. I brought him here and he’s playing tag with the Avengers.”

_“You do something two days a month.”_

“ _Three days_ , this month.”

_“This was an exception.”_

“Don’t start on me, JARVIS. Peter doesn’t need to hang out with me more than he does. He’s happy at the Tatro’s. They take good care of him.”

_“True. But he is one of six, there.”_

“Which gives him a chance to learn to socialize,” Tony reminded the AI. “Obviously, that isn’t something he’d be able to learn from me, now is it?”

_“You’re very good with him, sir.”_

“Because I can send him home at the end of the day. Change the conversation, will you? I don’t want to hear about it.”

_“The state probably wouldn’t allow you a license to be a foster parent, at any rate_ ,” JARVIS said. _“You don’t qualify.”_

“I’d _qualify_ ,” Tony said, immediately. “If I were even interested. Which I’m _not_.”

_“No. It isn’t something you can buy your way into.”_

“JARVIS, drop it.”

_“Of course.”_ There was a pause, and Tony waited, because he knew that it wasn't dropped, yet. _“It’s not as if you would gain higher public approval by applying, after all. Which might keep down the amount of school tours that you would have to attend, since Miss. Potts would be happy.”_

“I’d rather give a school tour every week than have a little kid underfoot full time.”

_“Even if it were Peter?”_

“Yes,” came the immediate reply, although Tony knew that he wasn't being completely truthful. He got to his feet, wanting to end the conversation – and the inner voices that were nagging him to consider the unthinkable. Maybe he’d go see what the boy was up to with Natasha. “Where are Peter and Romanoff?”

_“Hiding.”_

“From the _others_ ,” Stark said. “Not from me.”

_“It wouldn’t be right for me to give away their location.”_

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Fine. I’m going to the lounge.”

It was almost dinner time, after all, and Peter would be hungry after his active day.

_“Very good, sir.”_


	15. 15

“How come I have to get ready for bed, now?” Peter asked, curiously, looking up at Tony.

“Are you arguing with me?”

“No. Just asking.”

When they were done eating dinner – and a dessert of chocolate cake – the others had excused themselves, while Tony had told Peter that they needed to get him cleaned up and dressed in something more comfortable. He’d walked with the boy back to his little room, and had wet down a wash cloth, using it to clear all traces of the chocolate cake from the boy’s face – which had made Peter smile, even if Tony wasn't nearly as adept at it as Eric was.

“I want you ready for bed, now, so we don’t have to do it, later,” Stark explained. “When you’re tired or cranky.”

“We’re still going to watch a movie, though, right?”

“Yeah.”

“ _Together_?”

“How else would we watch it?”

“I don’t know… You could start it with me, get bored and leave.”

The way he said it made Tony certain that it had happened to him, before.

“I’m not going to do that.” He couldn’t help himself, he reached out and tapped Peter’s nose, affectionately, and smiled when the little boy smiled. “Get your pajamas on, okay? And brush your teeth. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay.”

Ten minutes later Tony was back, and Peter was sitting on the bed, clearly waiting for him. The billionaire smiled.

“Is it wrong that I love your pajamas?”

The little boy smiled.

“ _I_ love them.”

They were red and gold and looked like the Ironman suit from the bottom of the legs all the way to the shoulders, which were segmented to look like armor. To judge by just how worn they were, he had owned them long before they’d met.

“You look great.” He couldn’t wait for Steve to see them. “Perfect for watching movies.” He offered Peter his hand and the youngster hopped off the bed and took it. “Steve set us up in the theater.”

“You have a theater here?”

“It’s not really a _movie theater_ ,” Tony explained as they walked. “It’s where they show videos of their missions, and the telemetry data from my suit, to do briefings and debriefings. It’ll work for watching movies, too. I suppose I should have had him ask what you wanted to see. We assumed _cartoons_.”

He was a brilliant little guy, Tony knew. Maybe he didn’t like the fantasy that came with cartoons? Tony realized he still had a lot to learn about him.

Peter nodded, though.

“I like cartoons.”

“Good.”

They didn’t go far, and soon Tony was leading him into a room that was furnished with a sofa that had a blanket draped over the back of it and a couple of fat cushions, as well as a couple of recliners. There was a table that was currently holding a popcorn machine filled with freshly popped popcorn, some empty paper buckets, which were clearly intended to hold the aforementioned popcorn. There were small boxes of candies, sodas, juices and bottles of water. Peter saw a that the furniture was all facing a blank wall, rather than any kind of display or screen.

_“Wow.”_

Tony frowned at all the treats.

“You can’t eat _all_ of that,” he told the boy, wondering what Steve was thinking putting that much sugar out so late. Of course, Steve had about as much experience with children as Tony – less, even – so he supposed that it wasn't some kind of nefarious plot to mess with Tony by getting the boy wired with sugar and bouncing off the walls. “As much popcorn as you want, but either water and a candy, or just juice or a cola.”

Peter walked over to the table and stared in awe for a moment before he reached for a box of m&ms and a bottle of water, then turned and waited while Tony filled a couple of the buckets with popcorn and handed him one.

“Are the others coming?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, walking with him over to the sofa and sitting down. “They might sneak in while we’re watching.”

The boy climbed onto the sofa, as well, spilling his popcorn onto Tony’s lap and making the billionaire roll his eyes, not even scowling at the fact that the butter almost certainly going to stain the expensive pants he was wearing. He adroitly reached over and took the water, the candy, and the rest of the popcorn and felt a little warm and fuzzy inside when Peter tucked himself right beside him.

Putting the popcorn bucket in the boy’s lap and dumping some of his own into it to top off what he’d lost when he’d spilled, Tony then handed him his candy and water.

“Ready?”

Peter’s eyes were lit up with happiness. It might not seem like a big deal to Tony, but no one had done anything like this in a long time. Maybe _ever_ , even.

“Yeah.”

Stark picked up a remote. An instant later the lights went off, and the entire wall was lit up with a bright opening sequence.

“I hope you like Disney.”

The boy just nodded, his eyes now glued on the wall – and the cartoon that started, almost immediately.

><><><><><

“Why are you sitting in the dark?”

Peter turned and looked up at Natasha.

“We’re watching a movie,” he reminded her.

She frowned, looking at the wall that they normally used for their briefings. It was lit up, but the ‘screen’ was blue and there wasn't anything playing. She glanced at Tony, who was sprawled on the couch, covered with a blanket, sound asleep.

“Is it an _imaginary_ movie?” she asked, only barely keeping the sarcasm out of her voice.

Peter smiled.

“It ended about an hour ago.”

“Why didn’t you start another one?”

“Tony’s laying on the remote.”

Peter knew; he’d looked for it when the movie had ended. He’d known Tony had fallen asleep, but he didn’t mind. That wasn't the same as being bored and leaving, and when he’d fallen asleep, he’d had an arm around the boy, companionably, so Peter guessed that he was alright sitting with him. _He_ certainly was fine with it. It had been a long time since someone had been interested in holding him for any period of time. Eric or his wife would hug him, and comfort him with an embrace if he woke after a nightmare and couldn’t help the tears that followed, but Tony had pulled the boy against his side and had simply spent time with him.

It was comforting enough that _Peter_ had dozed off, too, only to be woken by the credits of the cartoon playing.

Romanoff smiled and looked at her watch.

“We should get you to bed. It’s pretty late.”

He didn’t argue. And he didn’t tell her about how he only slept a couple of hours a night, most of the time. Instead, he nodded, and she surprised him when she held her arms out to him. With a shy smile, Peter stood up on the couch and allowed her to sweep him up into her embrace, one arm under his rear to give him a seat, while the other went around him.

“Jeeze, you’re _heavy_ ,” she complained, hugging him, tightly, to make sure he knew she was only teasing. She smiled when his arms went around her, and his cheek ended up on her shoulder. “Did you like the movie?”

“It was good,” Peter told her. “And I didn’t see it, before.”

“Good. Make sure you tell Steve. He’s the one that picked it out.”

“What about Tony?” Peter asked, as she carried him to the door.

“I’ll come back and send him to bed once I get you settled. That way he knows where to find you.”

“Okay.”

He closed his eyes, sleepily, secure in her arms and savoring the comfort of even more cuddling. It was the best day ever, really, as far as he was concerned. She felt him start to fall asleep and shook her head. Clint had told her how his children seemed to double their weight when they were asleep and she’d never believed him – up until then.

He _did_ rouse when they reached his room, and he opened his eyes to look up at her when she put him to bed, and pulled the blankets up around him.

“Are you warm enough?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Thank you.”

Romanoff smiled and brushed his curls back from his forehead.

“I had fun, today.”

Peter’s echoing smile was complete agreement.

“Me, too.”

“Go to sleep, okay?”

He nodded, and closed his eyes. And felt her brush a kiss against his cheek that made him smile, again. He didn’t hear her leave the room; he was already asleep.

><><><>

Tony didn’t wake when she turned the lights on, but when she walked over and brushed her hand against his shoulder, he came awake with a start, looking around as he sat up.

“Looking for someone?” she asked, reaching down and picking up the remote that he’d been sleeping on.

“Where is he?”

“I just put him to bed,” she told him, amused at the instant worry. “You can check on him on your way to your bed, but don’t even _think_ of waking him.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah. He’s fine.” She smirked, watching as he rubbed his face, tiredly. “Wore you out?”

“It’s been a long week, but Peter isn’t the reason I’m tired.”

“He’s a fun little guy, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” He was sleepy enough that he wasn't even defensive about admitting it. “Is he sleeping, too?”

“He was awake when I came in to check on you guys, but was falling asleep when I covered him up.”

“Was he upset?”

“About what?”

“That I fell asleep on him.”

She shook her head.

“He looked pretty comfortable.”

“Good.”

She didn’t even ask why he thought the child would be annoyed that Tony fell asleep.

“Go to bed, Tony. If you’re lucky, he’ll sleep in. Otherwise, you’re the one who’s going to be chasing him around the compound until the rest of us get up.”

“Yeah.” Good point. “Thanks.”

Romanoff smiled.

“You’re welcome.”


	16. 16

“You’re up early.”

Peter had been sitting on the sofa in the lounge, still dressed in his pajamas, reading a book he’d found on the same shelf Natasha had pulled the books that he’d used as boosters the day before. It was a military history book, and not too interesting to the boy, but he didn’t think anyone would mind if he read it as long as it kept him out of the way while the rest of the compound slept around him.

He’d woken several hours before, and had lounged in his bed for almost ten minutes before boredom made him get up and begin trying to find something to occupy himself. The room was pretty bare, however, and while he’d brought his backpack with him, he didn’t have anything in it that would keep him interested. The lounge wasn't far from his room, and he didn’t think that it would count as wandering off if he was still in the building, so he’d made his way there and had found the book and settled himself.

Now, however, Steve Rogers proved that Peter wasn't the _only_ early riser in the avenger compound, and the man’s expression didn’t look annoyed at finding the boy somewhere other than his room.

“I don’t sleep, much,” he explained, holding up the book to prove that he was being careful. “So I found a book.”

Steve took it, turned it over to read the title, and then handed it back to him.

“A little light reading?” he asked, amused.

“Just something to do.” The little boy turned a few pages and held up the book, again, though, showing a picture of a very familiar figure. “You’re in it.”

Steve smiled, now. Peter knew who he was, of course, but apparently was just beginning to piece together that the Steve Rogers he’d spent some of the day before hiding from with Natasha was the same Steve Rogers who had fought in a war that had been finished decades ago. It was probably surreal.

“Yeah. You know what happened to me, right?”

“Yes. I read about it.” He hesitated. “Did it _hurt_?”

“Being frozen?”

“The plane crash.”

Oh.

Steve knew how Peter had lost his parents, of course.

“No,” he assured him. “I didn’t feel a thing. It was very quick.”

“Were you scared?”

“No.” He leaned over the back of the couch, his blue eyes meeting Peter’s brown ones. “I didn’t have time to be scared, either. It was like falling asleep.”

“Only _you_ woke up.”

“Yes,” Steve took the book, again, and set it aside, picking up Peter in his powerful arms, easily. “I woke up to a whole new world, really. Much different than the one I left behind.”

“ _Better_ , though?” Peter asked.

“In some ways, much better.” He smiled to find himself holding a little kid – not something he did more than long enough to allow a parent to take a photo – and ruffled the boy’s curls, ready to change the subject to something less serious. “I’m going to go for a run. Why don’t you come with me?”

“Can I?”

“Yup.” He looked at the clothes the boy was wearing, and his smile made his eyes light up. “Let’s find you something else to wear, though. Ironman pajamas are all well and good, but I happen to have something much better that Tony’s going to _love_.”

><><><><><>

It was a measure of how good the security was at the compound that Tony wasn't worried about finding Peter gone the next morning when he’d woken, dressed, and gone to check to see if the boy was awake, yet. Only to find his bed and room both empty. The bed was neatly made, something that had made Tony frown, and the backpack was sitting in the middle of it. An immediate call to JARVIS who had eyes on every camera and all the past recordings assured him that Peter hadn’t wandered off, but had been shanghaied by Steve.

JARVIS told him that they were outside, under an awning to avoid the heavy rain that was falling, but that Peter had been introduced to one of the guard dogs that patrolled the perimeter of the compound and was rubbing the fearsome beast’s belly as they spoke to the SHIELD agent who held the leash.

Relaxed (if he couldn’t trust Peter with _Captain America_ , who could he trust?) Tony had gone to the lounge to get some coffee and see who else was stirring. He was sitting at a table with Natasha and Sam, discussing what they might do that morning, when Romanoff suddenly smiled, her eyes going over Tony’s shoulder toward the entrance to the room.

“Oh, _that’s_ adorable.”

Curious, Tony turned and looked, as well, and rolled his eyes.

Peter and Steve had walked into the room. Both were wearing sweats and hooded sweatshirts. Steve’s clothing was simply gray; his usual running clothes, Tony knew. _Peter_ , on the other hand, was wearing a pair of blue sweats that were only a little big on him, with a blue sweatshirt that had the Captain America shield on it. Steve’s own personal brand logo. The boy was smiling, and a quick look at Steve showed he couldn’t quite suppress just how smug he looked at having his own personal mini-me, just then.

“Where did you get that shirt?” Tony asked Peter when the boy was close enough to speak to.

Peter’s smile grew.

“ _Steve_ gave it to me.”

“I keep getting samples sent to me,” Rogers told Tony, picking the boy up and putting him in the chair with the books. They were going to have to find something a little more permanent if he was going to be a return guest. “They pile up until I have a chance to deliver them to someplace that can use them. Luckily, there were plenty in Peter’s size.”

“Pretty _neat_ , huh?” Peter asked, looking down to admire the sweatshirt. “He has all kinds of stuff; cups, and socks, and a keychain I can give Ned.”

“There’s plenty _more_ , too,” Steve said, smirking. “I’ll send some home for the other boys, too.”

Tony forced himself not to roll his eyes, again, and reached over and tapped Peter’s nose.

“We’ll get you some _Ironman_ things, too,” he told the boy. “That way you guys can all look _good_.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

The billionaire tossed Rogers a triumphant look, and Steve didn’t bother to hide his amusement at the attempt to be one-upped. He had a lot of merchandizing, after all. Captain America had been around a lot longer than Ironman, after all.

“Christmas is coming,” Sam pointed out. Not immediately, but a few months wasn't that long. “Maybe Santa will bring a sleigh filled with Avenger toys.”

Peter smiled at him.

“Santa isn’t real. _Everyone_ knows that.”

Wilson’s eyes grew wide, and he allowed his jaw to drop open, affecting shock.

“What?? Who told you that?”

“My aunt. She said that Santa’s made up. She said my mom and dad were the ones that bought the presents that showed up under the Christmas tree.” He shrugged. “She must have been right, too,” he added. “Because there weren’t any after they died.”

“Maybe Santa just didn’t know where to find you,” Sam pointed out. “He’s a pretty busy guy, after all, and someone might have forgotten to tell him.”

The little boy shook his head, not convinced, but clearly considering the possibility.

“I don’t think so…”

He was _magic_ , right?

“What time are you taking Peter home, today?” Natasha asked, Tony, curiously, ready to switch topics, even though the conversation was more upsetting for her than it was for Peter.

“Late. Why?”

She smiled at the boy.

“Because I’m not done spending time with him.”

Stark couldn’t help but smile at Peter’s happy expression at the words. She had that little kid wrapped around her finger, already, clearly.

“I’m going to show him my workroom, today, after breakfast, and if it stops raining I’ll take the suit out for a spin so he can see how the expert does it.”

“ _I’m_ an expert,” Sam protested, winking at Peter. “Right, Pete?”

The boy smiled. Sam had been going all out the day before when he’d shown Peter his flying skills, and it had been incredible.

“Yeah.”

“Rhodes is coming out, today,” Steve reminded Tony, in case he’d forgotten. “You could do a mock dogfight.”

Peter looked at Tony, hopefully.

The billionaire smiled.

“We could make that happen.”


	17. 17

“Are you having fun?” Tony asked Peter after breakfast.

They were on their way to the workroom, and Peter was once more practically wriggling with eagerness. Especially since Tony had told him he was going to show him the newest suit that he was working on. One that no one else had even _seen_ , yet.

“A _lot_ of fun,” Peter confirmed.

Tony wasn't surprised. The kid was hanging out with the Avengers, after all. Of course he was having a good time.

“Best part?”

Peter hesitated and then shook his head.

“I can’t choose.”

Tony smiled.

“No one else is around,” he pointed out. “You can be honest and say it’s _me_. I won’t tell anyone.”

The boy giggled.

“I liked the movie.”

“The _movie_? Or the other stuff that went with it?”

Not that he was fishing for compliments – _much_ – but if it was something Peter enjoyed, Tony had a ready available reward for anything that might come their way. They didn’t need to go to the compound to see a movie, either. They could make movie night a regular thing.

“The other stuff that went with it,” he replied, looking up at Tony. He hesitated, again. “I like spending time with you.”

Tony felt himself smiling, and there was a weird ache in his chest for just a moment, as he looked down at the boy.

“I like spending time with you, too.” And sure as shit, the minute he said it, Tony realized that it was _true_ , and he wasn't just saying it to be nice. “You’re pretty good company,” he added.

Peter’s expression made it clear that the boy thought the same, and Tony surprised himself by reaching down and offering him a hand to hold. Which was accepted, immediately, and wasn't released until they reached their destination.

“Wow…”

The workshop was impressive. More impressive than anything Peter had ever seen before, and his eyes were wide as he looked around. There was tech everywhere, and pieces of metal that were colored gold and red neatly in place on the table and popping out some open drawers. More impressive, though, was the display. Behind the clear plastic was a full suit staring back at him.

“JARVIS? Pull up the latest results from our last test run.”

“JARVIS?” Peter echoed, looking up over his shoulder at Tony.

_“Hello, Peter…”_

The voice was gentle, and Peter’s jaw dropped at the sound of it. They’d had a lot of conversations, but they were only typed to each other.

“Wow.”

Tony smiled at the awe in Peter’s voice and expression.

“JARVIS is my AI. He keeps me on track.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Tony raised an eyebrow.

“You _do_?”

“We met.”

The billionaire frowned.

“You did? When?”

Peter hesitated, but only for a moment. He wasn't a liar by nature and didn’t even consider it with Tony.

“When I tried to hack your systems. Before we met.”

_Officially_.

“You tried to hack my systems?” Tony echoed, confused. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to meet you. I thought I could find out your schedule, and get you alone. I _tried_ , remember? I needed to ask you how to-“

“Wait…” Tony Stark was capable of going from confused to angry fairly quickly, and this wasn't an exception. He interrupted Peter’s explanation by simply raising his hand. “You hacked _JARVIS_?”

“No. I mean, I didn’t even know him. I thought I was trying to hack your smart house.”

“Why?”

“To learn your schedule. So I could-“

“Is that how you knew where I was all the time?” Tony scowled. “You were using my AI against me?”

“No. I-“

“And that’s how you got into the field trips? And you programmed JARVIS to convince me to pick you as my mentee?”

“What? No.” Peter took a step back from the anger he could see building in the man’s expression. “I didn’t have-“

“This was all some kind of _trick_?”

“No.”

_“Sir… You-“_

“You stay out of this, JARVIS,” Tony snapped. He scowled down at Peter, who had backed himself – literally – into a corner, pale and frightened. “I _trusted_ you.”

“I know. I didn’t mean-“

_“Sir. Peter-“_

“JARVIS, shut up,” Stark said, icily. “Or I swear to all that’s holy I’ll shut you down right here and now.”

“He didn’t do anything _wrong_ ,” Peter told Tony, quickly, defending his friend. “I _asked_ him to help me. I needed your help and you wouldn’t _listen_ -“

“I don’t want to hear it,” Tony interrupted, furious, now. The little whelp had turned his own AI against him. Just to get an _autograph_? Or to meet the other Avengers, or who knew why? It didn’t matter. Feeling very much abused by what he could only see as betrayal, Tony pointed a finger at the boy, who shrank back from the anger in his expression. “Go pack your things. I’m taking you home.”

Eyes wide and watery, Peter tried one more time.

“Please, Tony… I didn’t mean-“

“Go! _Now_!”

Peter broke and ran, dodging past Tony and throwing himself at the door. He flung it open – breaking it in the process – and vanished with a strangled sob that echoed in the hallway.

Stark cursed, and sat down at the worktable, running his hand through his hair, still angry, but already feeling that he might have overreacted.

“Run a self-diagnosis and clear your programming of any tampering.”

_“There isn’t any tampering,”_ JARVIS told him. _“Peter attempted to hack me, but wasn't able to get beyond the first level of clearance before I found out what he was doing.”_

“I don’t want to hear it.”

_“It doesn’t make it less true.”_

“Run the diagnosis. I want your programming secured before I take him home.”

_“There’s nothing wrong with my programming.”_

“Don’t argue with me. Just do it.”

Tony pulled down the closest display and turned it on, determined to watch the data – just to make sure.

><><><><>><

Peter couldn’t think. Couldn’t _breathe_ , even. It felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. _Again_. Blinded by tears and a crushing sorrow, he ran down the corridor, turning when it turned, but not paying any attention to where he was going.

Tony hated him. All of the fun that they’d had was never going to happen again. He was going to take him home, and Peter wouldn’t see Steve, or Natasha, or Sam or any of the others, again. His excellent memory had no trouble remembering the fury in Tony’s expression when he accused him of tricking him. Of being deceitful. Gone were the smiles. All Peter had seen was surprise and then anger and hurt.

Peter had to run away from that. Had to outrun it.

A door loomed in front of him and he crashed through it without slowing, hearing a crack as it slammed open and hit a wall, but not stopping to see if it was broken. He didn’t even feel the cold when he ran out from under the awning and into the driving rain, and he didn’t stop when he felt the concrete under his feet give way to soggy grass and then eventually to the loam that blanketed the floor of the woods out behind the compound.

He just ran, blindly, until he ran face-first into a tree. Then he crumpled to the ground in a heap and sobbed.


	18. 18

They were in the middle of a quick conversation about tests that Rhodey planned to run when he was out at the compound when Steve and Natasha both got the distracted looks that they wore when someone was talking in the communication buds in their ears. A moment later, both were frowning twin looks of concern.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“What’s up?” he asked Steve, as Natasha headed, wordlessly, to the door and left.

“Security just saw a little kid running across the field and out into the woods.”

“A little kid?” Clint echoed. “ _Peter_?”

“He’s the only little kid we have, right? Nat’s going to check it out.”

“Where’s _Tony_?”

“In his workshop, last anyone knew.” He stood up. “But I’m going to go check that out…”

><><><><><>

_“Do you believe me, now?”_

Stark scowled.

“Run it, again.”

_“It’s a waste of time. An eight year old couldn’t hack me. I-“_

“JARVIS, just do what you’re told.”

_“Security just reported a small figure running across the field into the woods,”_ the AI told him, suddenly. _“Agent Romanoff has responded.”_

“What? What _kind_ of small figure?”

_“Cameras show a small child in a blue sweatshirt.”_

Tony scowled, again, and got to his feet.

“That little…” his voice was annoyed, and his expression thunderous. “I _told_ him to go pack his shit, I didn’t tell him to go for a run in the rain. Now I have to go-“

_“Steve Rogers is at the door.”_

“Tony?”

The door to the workshop locked, automatically, when Stark was in it. It kept people from interrupting him when he was in the groove and didn’t want to be bothered. At the moment, though, the door was broken, but Tony didn’t realize it until he moved to open it and saw the wood frame was slightly separated from the rest of the door. Frowning, and wondering how he hadn’t seen that, before, he didn’t have a chance to think about it, further, because it was opening and a worried looking Steve Rogers was suddenly looming in his doorway.

“Hey.” Stark was already reaching for his glasses. “I don’t have time to talk,” he told Steve. “Apparently I have to go track down an eight-year-old menace.”

Steve had no trouble recognizing the anger in the words and tone.

“Nat went to get him. What’s going on?”

><><><><><>

She was soaked by the time she found him, even using the impressive tech that security had available. The woods around the compound were dotted with cameras to keep track of anyone who might think it was exciting (or smart) to try and sneak up on the place, but they weren’t everywhere, and didn’t see everything. Romanoff shivered, slightly, and heard a stifled sob coming from her left. Turning that way, she found what (or who) she was looking for.

A small form huddled at the base of one of the trees, crying as if the world had suddenly ended.

The assassin made a soft noise and went over and knelt down beside him.

“Peter…?”

He either didn’t hear her, or he ignored her. Either was possible, considering the sobs that were shaking his little body. Natasha reached a hand out and put it on his back. His sweatshirt was soaking wet, and a she could feel just how chilled it was. It couldn’t be doing much to keep him warm. She felt him tense, just a little, at her touch, and he tightened himself into even more of a ball, if it was possible.

“Peter…?” she repeated. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

There was a muffled reply, but it was strangled by his crying and the fabric his face was pressed against, somewhere near his arms.

Natasha finally just picked him up and settled herself into the little space he’d been in. She gathered him against her, trying to shield him from the driving rain, and then frowned when she realized she was seeing blood on the front of the sweatshirt. It made her push him back, just enough that she could see his face. His eyes were swollen and red from crying, his face was swollen and wet from rain and tears, and there was a cut on his lower lip that was bleeding, freely, and a mark just under it.

“What happened?” she asked, frowning.

There was no way Stark had hit him, so he must have hit a tree, or something, she determined, using her sleeve to wipe away some of the blood that the rain hadn’t rinsed.

“He hates me,” Peter said, hiccupping and burying his face against her neck, a new spate of tears overwhelming him.

“He doesn’t hate you…” She wasn't going to stay out in the rain. She could feel him trembling in her embrace, and while some of it might be from the tears and sobs, it was too cold to be so wet. “Come on, baby,” she crooned, pressing her lips against his cold cheek. “Let’s get you inside and dried off.”

“Tony found out I know JARVIS,” Peter told her, brokenly, not arguing when she picked him up and started back to the compound building. “He got mad at him, _and_ me.”

“You know Tony’s AI?” she asked. “How?”

“I hacked him a long time ago, trying to figure out a way to meet Tony.” He shivered, and she tightened her hold on him, pulling up the hood, despite it being just as wet as everything else he was wearing. “I needed to talk to him, but he kept telling me to go away…”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like strangers.”

“He doesn’t like _me_ , either,” Peter told her, lowering his head, again, and sniffing, woefully.

“Sure he does.”

“He told me to go pack, because he’s going to take me home.” Peter’s voice was muffled. “Now he hates me, and I really _do_ like him – and not just because I want him to teach me how to be a superhero.”

She crooned to him, trying to comfort him as he began sobbing, again. She’d broken free of the trees and saw Clint coming across the field to meet them. He was wearing a rain jacket, but took it off and covered Peter with it as soon as he was close enough.

“Is he alright?” he asked Natasha.

“He’s _freezing_ ,” she told the archer. “And he hit his face. Have one of the medics meet us in the lounge.”

She didn’t have a hand free to relay the message, herself.

“I’ll tell Tony to meet us there, too.”

Romanoff shook her head, scowling.

“No. He can stay wherever he is.”

She was going to have enough trouble getting Peter calmed down enough to try and explain all of it, again. The last thing she needed was Tony Stark underfoot, as well. Especially if he was being a dick.

><><><><>

“So, turns out he’s been playing me this whole time,” Tony said, furiously.

Steve frowned.

“Playing you? Tony, he’s _eight_.”

“People keep saying that to me. Like that means _anything_. He’s brilliant. You don’t get it, because you can’t see his genius. He’s-“ He stopped when Steve’s face got that distracted look that said he was being told something in his ear. “What?”

“Nothing. Nat found him and is bringing him back to the compound.”

“Good. Tell her to help him get his things together so I can take him home.”

“Stop being so dramatic. She’s going to have a medic take a look at him.”

The fury in his expression cracked for just a moment.

“A _doctor_? Why?”

“Hit his face, from what I hear. And he’s cold and wet.” The blonde man raised his troubled gaze toward his friend. “She says she doesn’t want _you_ anywhere near him, right now.”

Stark reacted predictably to that.

“Since when does _she_ give the orders around here?” he asked, starting to get to his feet. “He’s my responsibility. I need to make sure he’s alright.”

Rogers didn’t have any trouble catching Tony’s arm and stopping him.

“She’ll make sure he’s alright. You’re far too angry with him to be anywhere near him, right now.”

The billionaire tried to free himself, but Steve was a lot stronger than he was.

“Let me go.”

“Why would Peter want to hack your AI?”

_“He didn’t hack me,”_ JARVIS told them, both. _“He tried and I caught him. And then asked him that question, myself, to ascertain his motivations.”_

Tony frowned.

“And…?”

_“And he wanted some help from you, but couldn’t figure out how to ask without freezing. So I helped him.”_

“Help with _what_?” Steve asked, curiously. “How to pass that test that he passed?”

Tony shook his head.

“That wasn't that tricky.”

_“Correct,”_ JARVIS agreed _. “That is not what he needs assistance with.”_

“Then what?” Tony asked.

_“I promised not to tell.”_

“What?”

_“I wanted to know his secret, but he wouldn’t tell me unless I promised not to divulge it. I have not been given permission from him to tell you.”_

“You’ve got to be _kidding_ me…”

Steve snorted.

“Your AI is keeping secrets, Tony. Congratulations, it’s as stubborn as _you_ are.”

“It isn’t funny, Steve.” Now he was more curious than angry. “What could he possibly be keeping secret that he doesn’t want anyone to know?”

“He’s not your kid, is he?” Rogers asked, suddenly. “I mean… he’s insanely smart and so are you, and I suppose if you squint really hard, there could be a resemblance…”

“No. He isn’t mine.”

“You're sure? I know you had that reckless phase you went through. Lord only knows how many kids you could have out-“

“He isn’t related to me, Steve. I checked him out. I’d have found the connection.”

“ _You_ checked?” Steve asked. “Or _JARVIS_ checked?”

Stark’s eyes narrowed.

“JARVIS checked.”

_“He isn’t yours,”_ JARVIS said. A display came on, and two separate driver’s licenses came up; one for Mary Parker, and one for Richard Parker. Tony studied the man, carefully – and the woman, for that matter. He didn’t recognize her, and didn’t have to squint at all to see a resemblance between the man and the boy that he’d been working with for the last couple of months. _“Peter’s assumed conception date puts his mother in France – with his father. That same date range has you here in the states.”_

Tony made an annoyed sound.

“Then what’s the secret?”

_“I’m not telling you.”_

“JARVIS… this isn’t funny, anymore.”

_“It never was funny, sir. Peter is a sensitive child who needs handled with care and love. Your handling of this situation has jeopardized your relationship with him, and he may not tell you, now, or seek your assistance.”_

“My handling of the situation…?” A vein popped out on Tony’s forehead. “Are you out of your quantum fiber mind? I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the victim of some kind of crazy scheme cooked up between you and an eight year old.”

_“Incorrect. You’re the victim of a scheme that I cooked up – as you put it – and brought the eight year old along with. Peter knows nothing of any of this, save that he needs help and I promised him I would help him get that assistance.”_

“I’m not helping him,” Tony said, stubbornly, arms crossing over his chest.

_“I’m not asking you to,”_ JARVIS told him _. “He has other resources, now. Perhaps someone else would be better suited to nurture and guide him.”_


	19. 19

There was a medic waiting in the lounge with Sam when Natasha carried Peter into the room, Clint close beside the two and shaking out the rain jacket that he’d pulled from over Peter once they’d made it inside. Romanoff carried the little boy over and sat him down on the table to make him a little easier to get to.

“What happened, Peter?” Sam asked, reaching out to touch his soaked hair.

He was shivering, now, but he wasn't crying – although is big brown eyes were filled with sorrow and sadness and were red.

“Tony’s mad at me…”

“We’ll worry about that in a bit,” Natasha told him, moving just a little to allow the doctor to have access to his patient. “Right now, let’s get you checked out.”

“Someone bring some dry clothes,” the doctor ordered. “And a towel or two.”

Clint left to obey, leaving Natasha and Sam to watch as the doctor brought out some medical equipment and set it on the table next to Peter’s leg. The boy turned to look at them, but the doctor took his head in his hands and forced him, gently, to look up at him.

“How does it look?” Romanoff asked, sliding her hand along Peter’s back to support him.

“What did you hit, little man?” the medic asked.

“A tree… I think. I wasn't watching where I was going.”

Gentle fingers probed Peter’s lower lip.

“Don’t bite me…”

That made the boy smile for the first time since he’d left the workroom.

“Okay.”

The lip was carefully moved to expose Peter’s teeth, which the medic pushed carefully to see if they were loose.

“He cut his lip on his teeth when he hit,” came the final diagnoses. “His teeth are fine.” The medic smiled down at Peter, charmed at having such a young guy for a patient when he was used to headstrong adults. He tapped the boy’s nose, making him smile, again. “Get him dried off, changed into something warm, bundle him up and keep him by a heater or the fireplace until he’s warmed up. It doesn’t look like he’s concussed, but call me if he starts acting weird.”

“Weirder than normal?” Natasha asked, also smiling down at the boy.

By the time the doctor was finished with him, Clint had returned with a couple of towels and clean, dry clothes. They were _Peter’s_ , which told the boy that the archer had gone to his little room to get them. Clint stepped up, taking the doctor’s place closest to Peter, and began drying the boy’s hair, and carefully doing the same to his face and neck.

“Hands up, kid…” he said, demonstrating, and Peter lifted his arms so Clint could pull the sweatshirt off, as well. “Nat? Scoot.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing that Peter probably wouldn’t have kicked her out of the room while they changed him from his wet clothes into dry, but she was fine with it. She didn’t actually leave the _lounge_ , though. She settled herself on the sofa on the other side of the room while Sam and Clint helped the boy out of his soggy wet clothing and into some that were much warmer.

“Bring him to me,” she ordered the two men when he was dry.

Clint handed him to her and Romanoff covered both of them with a blanket to help warm him with her own body heat as well as his, and gathering him into her embrace.

“Better?” Clint asked, sitting on the arm of the sofa.

Peter nodded, resting his cheek against Natasha’s arm, and wallowing in the feeling of being warm, once more – not to mention being _held_.

“Ready to talk?” Natasha asked, gently.

The boy nodded, but he didn’t lift his head.

“Yes.”

Sam took a seat in a chair next to where Clint was perched. They were pretty skillful interrogators – and Peter was _eight_ – so either of them could probably have asked the questions, but they left it up to Romanoff, who was the expert with questions, if not children.

Besides, she was holding him, just then.

“What happened with you and Tony?” she asked.

“He introduced me to JARVIS, but I already knew him.”

“And Tony didn’t know?”

“No. I didn’t tell him. JARVIS told me not to.”

“Then he can’t be mad at _you_ for that.”

Peter sniffed.

“He _is_.”

“You mentioned that you wanted Tony’s help.”

“Yes.”

“Because you want to learn to be a superhero…?” Natasha asked, remembering the conversation.

“Yes.”

“You’re a little small for that,” Sam pointed out.

“I know.”

“But…?”

“But I need to learn how to use them.”

“ _Them_?” Romanoff echoed. “Them what?”

He hesitated, looking at her, and then turning his head each direction to look at the other two.

“You won’t tell?”

“Not if you don’t want us to,” Clint said, indulgently, as if expecting Peter to mention that he was super smart, or something.

A good skill, and impressive as hell for an eight year old, but not really something that would make a person a superhero. Tony Stark needed a suit wrapped around him, after all, and he was the smartest person Clint knew.

Peter buried his face in Natasha’s collarbone and told them, succinctly, the same story that he’d typed out to JARVIS. First his basic history; losing his parents, and then living with his aunt, and then being sent to a temporary foster home when she'd gone to jail and died, and then moving to Eric’s. They all three already knew that part, of course, but they all started paying more attention the more story was told. Especially when Peter told them about the trip to the lab and the bite from whatever it might have been.

“So what kind of things are we talking about?” Sam asked, curiously.

“I’m not sure,” Peter admitted. “I mean, I know I’m pretty strong. And I _wasn't_ , before. And I feel people around me when I can’t see them. I see in the dark pretty well.”

“That’s because you eat carrots,” Clint told him.

“Strong how?” Natasha asked, although she echoed the smile that Peter sent Barton’s direction. “Can you pick up those books you sit on in the chair?”

“Stronger than that.” He yawned, mightily, worn out from talking and being warm now, after his harrowing ordeal. “I don’t know _how_ strong, though. I’m not sure how to experiment.” He closed his eyes, nestling his head against Natasha’s curves. “Which is why I needed help.”

“That makes sense,” she said, approvingly – and maybe a little indulgently, as well. He was _eight_. How strong could he be? She brushed a kiss against the top of his head “Why don’t we experiment, later? Then we can see.”

“We could, _now_.”

“I want you to relax,” she told him. “We’re just going to hang out, okay?”

“What do I do about Tony?” he asked, pulling his head away from her to look up at them, hopelessly. “He doesn’t like me, anymore.”

“He likes you fine,” Clint assured him. “He’s just gotta get over the mad, first. Stark’s like putting a mentos in a bottle of coke, sometimes. Reactive as all get out, and doesn’t think, first.”

“Besides, you don’t _need_ Stark,” Sam pointed out, also noticing that Peter was looking a little droopy-eyed and tired. “There’s a whole bunch of superheroes, here, that can help you. Take a nap, buddy. It won’t seem as awful when you have a little sleep under your belt.”

Peter closed his eyes, still holding Natasha.

“I want Tony to _like_ me…” he murmured, falling asleep.

He _did_ need him. He just didn’t realize how much until it seemed he was gone, now, for good.

><><><><><

Tony was still arguing with his AI when the call came into Steve’s earpiece. Now, though, he was tinkering with a program on his display, clearly looking at JARVIS’ programming.

“Peter’s fine,” he said, despite the look Tony gave him that tried to make it seem as if he wasn't interested. “He busted his lip open and will have a bit of a bruise. No stitches, or anything.”

“Well, that’s _lovely_ ,” Stark said, feeling relief but not showing it. He was adept at hiding his real feelings, after all. “Now I have to convince his foster dad that I didn’t get mad at him and hit him, or something.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to worry,” Rogers said.

“Easy for you to say,” Tony replied. “The guy’s _huge_. And pretty protective. JARVIS? Any video of him running in the woods? Or are you going to keep _that_ from me, too?”

_“Running into the woods, yes. Running into the tree? No.”_

Slightly mollified by the reply, Stark got to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked.

“I’m going to go check on him.”

“He’s asleep.”

“Good. Then he won’t be so annoying, will he?”

Steve frowned.

“Tony…”

The billionaire rolled his eyes. He was over the mad – at least, JARVIS’s attitude had convinced him that he had been angry at the wrong _person_ , anyway – and was worried, now, despite the reassurances from the updates Steve had given him.

“I want to make sure he’s alright.”

_Steve_ wanted to check on him, too, so it didn’t take much convincing.

“Fine.”

“JARVIS? Where is he?”

_“The lounge.”_


	20. 20

Sam, Natasha, and Clint were in the lounge when Tony and Steve arrived. A quick glance around the room showed the billionaire that _Peter_ was in the lounge, too, only he was asleep on the sofa, so bundled in the blanket that Natasha had wrapped him in that all Stark could see was a mop of curls. He leaned over the back of the couch to check on him, but still couldn’t see much more than just his hair. The little boy had his face buried in the soft pillow.

Steve had gone to sit with the others at the table, and Tony walked over, as well.

Romanoff caught him with her killer glare as soon as he was close enough to see it.

“What the _hell_ , Tony?”

He raised his hands, defensively.

“I got mad. I overreacted.”

“You _think_?” She said, sarcastically, only keeping her voice down because she didn’t want to wake the sleeping boy. “He was in tears. What did you _say_ to him?”

“I told him to get his things packed because I was taking him home.” Stark replied. “I was angry.”

“It’s not an excuse. He could have really hurt himself, running into that tree. You had no right to-“

“He tried to hack my _AI_ , Natasha. He turned JARVIS against me.”

“He didn’t do anything to JARVIS,” Steve reminded the billionaire.

“I _thought_ he did at the time.” Tony frowned. “What did the doctor say?”

“Nothing’s broken. He just hit his face and cut his lip.”

“We’re supposed to keep an eye on him,” Clint added. “When he wakes up.”

“You're _not_ taking him home, right now,” Natasha told him. “He was promised a day with us, and you’re not ruining that any more than you already have.”

Stark scowled. He didn’t like being told what to do. Even by someone as formidable as Natasha Romanoff. Before he could argue with her, though – and he wasn't completely sure that he even wanted to – James Rhodey walked into the lounge, dressed casually in jeans and a polo. He was quick to note the annoyed expressions on Romanoff’s face and Tony’s.

“Uh oh, what did I _miss_?”

“Tony traumatized Peter, and Natasha’s mad at him for it,” Clint replied, amused, now that he’d seen for himself that Tony was over being mad, and wasn't being too much of an ass.

He loved watching those to spar, verbally. Nat was more than capable of handling anyone. Even someone like Stark..

“I didn’t _traumatize_ him,” Tony snapped. “I said some things that I shouldn’t have, but I’ll apologize and make it up to him.”

Rhodes raised an eyebrow.

“Peter’s here?”

“Sleeping on the couch,” Sam said. “So keep your voice down.”

“He won’t sleep long, anyway,” Natasha said – although her voice was soft. “He doesn’t sleep too much.”

“How do you know that?” Tony asked.

“He told me while we were hiding in the air ducts, yesterday.”

Rhodey frowned, confused.

“Why were you hiding in the air ducts?”

“Long story,” Natasha told him. “You’re going to dogfight with Tony, later, when Peter wakes up.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I promised Peter that we would,” Tony said.

“And now he has to make up for being a _jerk_ ,” Clint added.

“It’s _raining_.”

“You could do it without the suits,” Steve said, shrugging. “But it wouldn’t be as much fun for him to watch.”

“Although I’d find it hilarious,” Natasha told them, smirking.

Rhodes frowned, looking over at Tony, who shrugged.

“C’mon, Rhodey. You won’t melt.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you.”

The other man just shrugged, too. He liked dogfighting with Tony, truth be told. Stark was good with his suit, of course, but Rhodes was a military man and knew tactics. He actually had a chance of beating him, occasionally.

“You owe me lunch, though.”

“Sure.” Tony looked at the others. “How long did the doctor say we should allow Peter to sleep?”

“He didn’t tell us to let him sleep,” Natasha told him. “He fell asleep once we got him calmed down a bit.”

“My kids do that,” Clint said, knowingly. “They’ll throw a fit, or have a crying jag, and once that adrenaline is done, they’re out.”

“For how long?”

Stark was anxious to talk to Peter, and to make sure the blow to the head didn’t addle him, or something.

“Depends on the kid.”

“Huh.”

“He’s _fine_ , Tony,” Steve said. “We have about an hour until lunch. If he’s still sleeping, then, we’ll wake him up so he can eat, and then check him out.”

“Until then, you can show me the specs that you have set up for the trial on your new suit,” Rhodes suggested.

“Sure.” He looked at the couch, again. “But in here, okay? The door to my workroom is broken, and I don’t want to be bothered when Steve sends someone to fix it.”

“The one leading out to the field is, too,” Hawkeye told them.

Romanoff frowned.

“Did Peter break them on his way out?”

“He’s a little kid,” Rhodes reminded them. “I don’t know about the one in the hall, but I know he couldn’t have done that much damage to a maglock door.”

Natasha just shrugged, and looked at Sam and Clint, who were also looking speculative.

“What is it?” Tony asked, not missing the silent exchange.

“Nothing,” Natasha replied. “Just thinking about something I was told, earlier.” She stood up. “I’m going to go get some work done. Call me for lunch.”

“I’ll come, too,” Sam said, getting up, also.

“So will I,” Clint agreed.

The three left, and Rhodes looked at Stark.

“What was that all about?”

“Who _knows_?” Tony answered with a shrug.

It wasn't like Romanoff would tell him unless she wanted to, anyway.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Steve told them.

He had doors to get fixed.

“So what happened?” Rhodey asked his friend once they all were gone.

“It’s a long story.”

“And you’re going to tell me, right?”

Tony sighed.

“Yeah.”

><><><><><>

“Peter…?”

He felt a hand touching his cheek, and it woke him from a sound sleep. The boy felt a shiver of irritation at being woken – he didn’t sleep well, but when he did, it was so nice…

The hand brushed his hair from his forehead, and it was gentle and warm.

“Hey, buddy, wake up a bit.”

He opened his eyes, sleepily, and found himself looking at Tony, who was leaning over him. Peter remembered, suddenly, that Tony was mad at him, and that he’d told him to pack, and he hadn’t done that. He woke with a gasp, eyes filling with tears before he could stop them.

“I didn’t pack…” he said, trying to sit up but tangled in the blanket that he remembered he’d been sharing with Natasha. “I’m _sorry_! I’ll go-“

“Hey…” Tony’s hand was on his chest, holding him still, and his expression was troubled. “It’s okay.”

If there had been any question that he’d well and truly fucked up, _that_ was certainly answered, Tony decided, seeing the fear and tears in the little boy’s eyes.

“No. I-“

“Peter…” he reached down with both hands and picked the child up, gathering him into his arms, blanket and all. “Hey… I’m _sorry_. You don’t have to pack, okay? I was mad, and I never should have taken it out on you like I did. I’m not taking you home. Not right now, anyway. Not until we’re done having our fun afternoon.”

“I _don’t_?”

“No, buddy. I’m sorry I upset you.” He was holding him close, trying to comfort but not really very good at it. “I’m really sorry.”

Peter’s tears didn’t stop.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Tony hugged him until the boy gained a little more control of his tears, just holding him and making soft noises designed to comfort and reassure. Peter eventually relaxed enough to allow his cheek to drop to the man’s shoulder, and even through the blankets Tony could feel him relaxing.

“It’s almost lunch time,” Stark told him. “Are you hungry? Or do you want to go back to sleep?”

“I’m hungry.”

He nodded and then set him down so he could get untangled from the blanket, feeling a little better, himself.

“Good. Rhodey’s here. When we’re done eating, he and I are going to put on our suits and do a dogfight so you can see what they can do. Yeah?”

“Okay.” Peter smiled, uncertainly, and Tony saw that the bruise on his chin was purple.

The lip wasn't so swollen, though, as he had been worried that it would. Aware that it was his fault that Peter had hurt himself at all, Tony had to fight down the urge to hug the kid, again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

Peter shrugged, uncertain how to respond to that.

“It’s okay.”

“What was it that you needed?” Tony asked. “When you spoke with JARVIS, I mean? You know I’d give you anything that you ask for.”

He had to know that, even though _Tony_ had just realized the truth of the statement right as he was saying it. Yes, because he felt _guilty_ , of course, but also because he liked Peter, and wanted his smile to be the happy one that he liked so much. Not the uncertain expression that he knew was his own fault.

Peter hesitated, and then shook his head and looked down to untangle the blankets.

“It’s alright,” he answered. “I’ll figure it out.”

Maybe Natasha and them would still be willing to help, but he didn’t want Tony to think that he wanted anything from him. He didn’t want to see him mad at him, again. Or ever.

Tony wanted to argue with him. Wanted to tell him that he meant what he was saying, because he didn’t know didley about kids, but he’d spent enough time with Peter to recognize that he was a bit subdued. He didn’t argue, though. It wasn't going to help for him to try and convince Peter he was sincere. He’d screwed up, and he’d lost something between them because of it.

That wasn't on Peter, though, and Tony knew it.

If it was going to be fixed, it was going to be _him_ that needed to fix it. He just nodded, and picked Peter up, easily, tucking him into his embrace.

“Come on,” he said, carrying him over to the table on the other side of the room where Rhodes was sitting, waiting for Tony – and the others – and looking at some information on the tablet he was holding. “Let’s get you ready to eat.”

Rhodes smiled a greeting when Tony settled the boy into the chair with the books as a booster.

“Hey, Cheese Pizza. Remember me?”

Peter smiled, too, echoing the cheerfulness he could easily read in the man’s expression – and his eyes.

“Hello. Yes.”

“Rhodey is War Machine,” Tony reminded Peter, sitting down, too. “ _You_ knew that, right? I told you.”

“Yes.”

“What happened to your face, Cheese Pizza?” Rhodes asked, reaching out and frowning at the bruise as he prodded the area around it, carefully. “Did _Tony_ beat you up?”

That made Peter’s smile broaden, despite the stab of pain from the split lip.

“No. I ran into a tree.”

“Better watch where you’re going,” he was told, as the others began filing into the room, as well. “You’ll give the Avengers a reputation for being bad hosts.”


	21. 21

Lunch was a boisterous affair, and when it was over Tony and Rhodes went to get suited up while the others bundled Peter into another sweatshirt – and his jacket – and they went outside. Not to the awning, though, next to the field. Instead, they took him up onto the roof.

“Don’t go anywhere near the _edge_ , okay?” Natasha warned, as they huddled out of the wind and rain near a wall and protected, somewhat, by an overhang.

“I won’t,” he agreed.

To prove that, he stepped closer to her side, until he was pressed up against her leg.

Before she could do more than nod approvingly, there was a sudden blast of a rocket close at hand, and Peter yelled in excitement when the Ironman suit soared into the air close enough to them to be seen. Almost close enough that it seemed he could have reached out and touched it. An instant later he was followed by War Machine, and the two hovered close enough to be seen.

“They’re not _really_ going to shoot at each other,” Steve told Peter, forced to admit that the two of them looked pretty impressive. “There’ll be a lot of fancy flying, and mock shooting. _Bangs_ , but no real rounds.”

“Wow.”

Steve waved a hand at the hovering figures, and Peter took an excited step forward as they shot into the air, again, feeling Natasha’s hand on the back of his jacket keeping him close. The chuckle he heard from behind him told him that she wasn't annoyed, though.

Through the gloom of the weather, he saw more flashes, and thrusters engaging, all followed by loud booms as the two angled in the air, trying to get a lock on the other.

“That’s pretty fancy flying,” Sam admitted.

“Yeah.”

“I saw them at the _expo_ ,” Peter said, his eyes never leaving the two flyers – and having no trouble keeping track of them. “It was really exciting. And _scary_.”

“You were there?” Natasha asked, remembering easily just how much debris, glass and metal had been scattered that evening.

“Yeah. I almost got killed, but Ironman saved me. Blew a drone up right in front of me.”

He sounded so excited about it that Romanoff rolled her eyes, making Clint smile. He was a little kid; they were _supposed_ to be dumb like that.

“Was that before or after the trip to the lab?”

“Before.”

Peter whooped again when Ironman did a flyby, followed by War Machine who was holding his hands out towards Tony, ‘shooting’ at him.

_“Pew! Pew! Pew_!” Peter yelled, jumping up and down. “Go get him!”

><><><><><>

It was a full half an hour before they were done, and Peter had watched every moment of it with tense excitement, forcing an overprotective Natasha Romanoff to keep a tight hold of the back of his jacket. Then, to make it even better, both Ironman and War Machine swooped in, checked the clearing and landed on the roof next to them.

The helmets detatched, and both men smiled down at Peter who looked up at them.

“What did you think?” Rhodes asked.

“It was _great_ ,” Peter told them, hugging himself, tightly. “Who won?”

“ _Me_ , of course.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Don’t listen to him, Peter,” he said. “We have to check the data, first. Then it’ll probably be _me_ that won.”

“Wow.”

Greatly daring, Peter reached out and touched the Ironman suit.

Tony smiled, but then realized that the boy and the others (and he and Rhodes) were all out in the weather, now, and he didn’t want Peter getting any wetter than he already was.

“Go inside,” he said, pulling Peter’s hood back up over his head with one metal encased hand. “We’ll meet you guys at the briefing room so you can see the telemetry data.”

><><><><><>

“Why are you making him sit through the telemetry stuff?” Rhodes asked as he and Tony moved through the compound corridors, clanking as they walked since both were still in their suits. “It’s not even close to being as interesting as the live version.”

“I want him to get the full experience,” was the reply. “Besides, I don’t know if he’s going to find it interesting, or not. He’s a funny little guy, and gets excited by things that others might not find so fascinating.”

“Not the menace you initially thought he was?”

“He’s _eight_ ,” Tony reminded him. “He still has plenty of time to prove me right.” Then he smiled, proving to his friend that he didn’t really mean it. “But he’s cute.”

“And you like him.”

“I don’t _dislike_ him.”

Rhodes rolled his eyes.

“It’s really that hard to say?”

“For _me_?” Tony shrugged, but the action was lost in the suit that he was wearing. “You know it _is_. I’m not made for anything serious.”

“People change.”

The billionaire shook his head, almost regretfully.

“Not me.”

><><><><><

“Are you cold?” Natasha asked Peter as they came off the roof and down a side staircase.

“No.” He grinned up at all of them, walking backwards, so he could see them as they walked. “Did you see that? Ironman was all “swoosh!” and the War Machine came up and was all “Bam! Bam! Bam!” and then Tony shot up into the air in front of him and turned around and he flew by and _boom_! he was behind him, then.”

“That’s exactly what I saw,” Sam agreed. “They’re good. Not as good as _me_ , because I’m not in a bulky suit, but they’re pretty good.”

Peter laughed at that, turning and tripping over his own feet, but catching himself against a wall even as all of them reached to catch him.

“What happens with the telemetry data?” he asked, curiously. “I know the words, but not the context.”

“We get to see things from their point of view,” Natasha told him, reaching out to offer him a hand, deciding that it would be the best way to keep him from bouncing himself right out of the hallway. “And see where they were aiming.”

“ _And_ ,” Steve added. “If they were actually shooting at each other, you’ll be able to see where it would hit.”

Peter hesitated.

“It’s not _gross_ , though, right?”

“It’s not _real_ bullets,” Steve assured him, understanding the question. “They’ll just show as lights on the screen. You’ll see.”

><><><><<>>

Peter watched the entire dogfight telemetry twice. The first time the others watched it with him, but when he asked Tony if he could watch it again – all _thirty-eight minutes_ of it – Tony said yes and Avengers started pulling out phones, and tablets and other alternate things of interest. Tony didn’t, though, remembering what Peter had mentioned the evening before about starting a movie with him and then wandering off. While Peter watched the display, though, Tony watched _him_ , catching the times when the little body tensed more than other times, and realizing it was when he could hear JARVIS making reports to him.

“So, JARVIS controls your suit, pretty much?” the boy finally asked, when it was over.

“He controls the systems and helps me process all of the data coming at me,” Tony confirmed.

“That’s a _lot_ of data, though,” Peter pointed out, looking at the screen and all of the items in the HUD. “That’s amazing.”

“Because I am an _amazing_ guy,” Tony replied, making Romanoff roll her eyes and Rhodes put his face into his palm, shaking his head.

Peter nodded, though.

“It takes a lot of focus.”

“Yes, it does.”

The boy smiled.

“Thank you for showing me.”

“You’re welcome.” He looked at his watch. “It’s getting late, and I want you to eat before I take you home.”

Peter’s smile faltered, but he nodded.

“Okay.”

“But I’m going to see you _tomorrow_ ,” Tony reminded him. “Right after school. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Come on Cheese Pizza,” Rhodey said, scooping the boy up and hanging him upside down, because he already knew Peter liked that kind of play. “Let’s go see what they’re making, and save everyone a spot.”

Peter laughed, distracted, and nodded.

“Okay.”

Still holding him by an ankle, upside down, Rhodes left, with Sam walking with them, reminding Peter – _again_ – that it took a lot of hand/eye coordination to fly the _Falcon_ suit, too.

“Do you _have_ to take him back?” Romanoff asked. “It’s raining pretty hard. Maybe we could keep him another day. We could point out that your car isn’t really designed for driving in a storm and it was safer to keep him here.”

“He has school tomorrow, guys,” Tony said. “And you guys are doing whatever Avenger things you have scheduled, and I have Monday meetings – probably _all day_ …”

“And you love the thought of rushing home to make those meetings?” Natasha asked, sarcastically.

“We can’t keep him, guys. I know he’s cute, and all, but he isn’t ours.”

Romanoff shrugged, not arguing – although she didn’t even look convinced about that.

“I’m not talking about _keeping_ him,” she said. “But something is going on with your little friend, and we haven’t had a chance to get to the bottom of it. Now that he’s more comfortable with us, maybe we can use tonight and tomorrow to figure it out.”

“Besides, it really _is_ raining, hard,” Clint added. “Better safe than sorry – especially the way you drive.”

“What’s going on with Peter?” Tony asked, ignoring that last comment. “Did he tell you?”

“He _did_ ,” she confirmed. “But only after we promised to keep it to ourselves.”

Stark frowned.

“I should know what-“

“ _However_ ,” Natasha said before he could complain. “We have some interesting security footage from earlier.” She pulled up a video from the corridor that led outside, and a moment later he saw Peter running down the hall on his little legs, crashing into the door and going through without stopping. “He broke the door.”

“He hit it pretty hard,” Stark pointed out.

“You know force and mass and resistance better than we do,” Clint said. “But he doesn’t weigh that much, and it’s a pretty sturdy door. It’d take more momentum than he had built up to do the damage that he did.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing,” Natasha said. “I promised I _wouldn’t_ say anything. But I want to keep him another night and run some tests with him.”

“You can’t _experiment_ on him.”

“ _With_ him,” she reiterated. “And nothing crazy. We’re not going to draw blood, or anything. Just manual tests.”

“And you can watch on _video_ ,” Clint added. “And maybe get an idea of what’s going on, too.”

Tony frowned, again, but this time it wasn't annoyed. He looked at Steve.

“Do you know what this is all about?”

“No.” He looked at the others. “But I _did_ see the door, and it’s wrecked. I noticed your workroom door was damaged, as well.”

“He couldn’t have done that, though,” Tony replied. “That one is reinforced.”

“One of the things we want to look into,” Romanoff said, mysteriously.

The billionaire scowled again. He hated secrets. Hated the idea that they knew something that he didn’t, but this time understood that he’d had his chance for Peter to tell him what was going on and had blown it.

“Fine. I’ll call and ask if we can keep him another night.”

“Good.”

“But only because I don’t feel like driving in the rain.”

“Whatever you say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because they're doing maintenance on the AO3 site, email alerts aren't going through, and I don't know any other way of alerting when chapters get put up. Sorry! I have to look for comments, too. For a while when I didn't receive any notifications, I was beginning to think it was getting too boring, or too domestic to hold interest. But then I found them (yay!) so we will keep on keeping on and I'll refresh as often as I can, and I hope you're enjoying it


	22. 22

_“Everything alright?”_

“Yeah. It’s going well. I don’t know what you guys are looking at down south, but we’ve got some weather, here, and I was wondering if you’d be alright with me keeping him another night? I don’t want to drive in the rain if I can avoid the risk of having a tree come down at a bad time.”

_“Peter’s okay with that?”_

“I haven’t asked him, yet,” Tony admitted. “In case you said no, I didn’t want him to be disappointed.”

There was a slight pause, and a muffled conversation – as if the man had put his hand over the receiver and was talking to someone. Which was confirmed a moment later when Eric came back on the phone.

_“Is he going to miss school?”_

“Yeah, probably.”

_“I’ll call and let them know. It won’t hurt him to miss a day or two, really. As long as he’s not going to be in your way.”_

“No, he’s great.”

_“Let me know if you need me to come out and get him, or something. Otherwise we’ll expect you sometime tomorrow.”_

“Tomorrow _evening_ ,” Tony confirmed. “I’ll call you, first, to avoid inconveniencing you.”

><><><><>><><>

Peter was sitting on the books on the chair, talking to Sam and Rhodes when Tony walked into the lounge with Steve and Natasha. The little boy was holding a carrot that someone had obviously mooched from the kitchen for him, and he smiled at the newcomers when they walked over to the table.

“Where did you get that?” Tony asked him, shaking his head when the boy offered him a bite.

“Sam got it for me.”

“Don’t spoil your dinner.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes.

“It’s a _carrot_ , Tony.” The man had a lot to learn about kids and nutrition, obviously. “I think he’ll be fine.”

“We saved you a spot,” Peter told him, pointing at a chair beside him.

“Thanks.” He settled into it, looking at the boy. “What would you think about maybe staying over another night, here?”

Peter’s eyes widened.

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s raining pretty hard, and we were thinking that maybe we could use that as an excuse to keep you another day. If you _want_ to, that is?”

“Eric said it’s okay?”

“Yup. Interested?”

“Yeah. _Wow_.”

Tony wasn't the only one to smile at the awe in Peter’s voice.

“Good.”

“Clint and I are going to steal you after dinner, though,” Natasha told him. “Tony has to call and let everyone know that he’s not going to work, tomorrow, so you’ll hang out with us. Yeah?”

“Okay.” The boy looked at Tony. “I have _school_ , tomorrow.”

“Eric said it’s alright if you miss a day. _He’s_ going to call and let them know.”

“Wow.”

Clint grinned.

“You say that a lot.”

That made Peter blush, but Tony was pleased when the boy’s arms wrapped around himself, carrot and all, and he hugged himself, excitedly. He reached out and tousled Peter’s curls.

“I’m going to go see what’s for dinner. Keep these guys out of trouble for me.”

“Okay.”

><><><><><<>

Rhodes had to leave when they were done eating dinner. He had several errands that he needed to run the next day, rain or not, and he had a meeting that he couldn’t miss. He said goodbye to Peter, hugging the little boy, affectionately, and promised to see him, again, even if it meant that he’d have to kidnap him from Tony. Peter had smiled, looking so pleased that it had made the others smile, too.

“I’ll walk you out,” Tony told Rhodes. He looked at the little boy. “You’re going to hang out with Natasha for a while, alright? I need to go make my phone calls.”

“Okay.”

Stark looked at Romanoff.

“If you need anything, call me.”

“We’re going to the gym,” she told the billionaire.

Tony did walk out with Rhodes, thanking him for the help with distracting Peter, and promising that he’d see him sometime in the next week or two. Then he went to his workroom, but he didn’t even slow down when he entered, closing – and _locking_ – the door behind him. Luckily, it hadn’t taken long for maintenance to repair it.

“JARVIS, pull up the live feed for the gym.”

_“You’re spying on Peter?”_

“Yup. Since no one will tell me what’s going on with him, I need to figure it out on my own.”

There wasn't a reply, other than the closest display coming on. Tony settled on the stool that he normally used when he was tinkering, and watched with interest as Natasha walked into the gym with Peter, Sam and Clint all following.

><><><><>

What are we doing in here?” Peter asked, curiously, looking around.

“We’re going to experiment,” Natasha said, looking at Peter when they’d reached the free weight section that many of the young SHIELD agents used to build themselves up. “If you’re alright with that?”

“Oh.” His eyes lit up, hopefully. “Yes. Of course.”

“Lift this weight, Peter,” Sam said, gesturing to a dumbbell.

The boy did as he was told, effortlessly. It wasn't very heavy, though.

“And this one…”

Peter went down the entire rack, lifting each weight as it was pointed out to him. The five pound one was no big deal, but Sam knew the ones on the end were a full 50 lbs. He watched Steve use them; he should know.

“Can you lift one in each arm…?” Clint asked, awed, but not making a big deal out of it, to avoid making Peter nervous.

He demonstrated that it wasn't a problem, and even lifted them above his head in an impressive display of strength in a little body that certainly shouldn’t have that kind of power.

“Wow.”

Natasha smirked at Clint.

“He's right about being strong.”

“Yeah.” Clint shook his head. “What else, Peter?” he asked, smiling at the boy, and looking for any sign of strain, but there wasn't any.

“What do you mean?”

“Can you do anything else? Super speed? Flying? Close your eyes and concentrate really hard and see if you can teleport my bow to me.”

Peter smiled, and shook his head.

“I can’t do any of those things,” he assured them. “I mean, I’ve jumped into the air and came down, so I can’t fly, and I’m pretty slow…” he was limited by his short legs and small stride, obviously. “And it’s _telekinesis_ , or _psychokinesis_ , not teleporting that brings things to you.”

Clint rolled his eyes when the others snorted their amusement and he grabbed the boy into his arms, turning him upside down, playfully.

“Nobody likes a smartass, buddy.”

Peter giggled, twisting his little body around so he could look up at the adults.

“One time Kyle threw a sock at my head and I caught it. He called me freaky fast.”

“We’ll have to try that,” Natasha said, as Clint turned Peter upright, once more, and set him on his feet.

“With _baseballs_?” Sam asked, winking at Peter.

“We’ll figure something out.” She poked Peter. “You’re an amazing little guy. You know that?”

He looked up at her, eyes shining with happiness. And with relief. Someone else knew what he could do, and had seen it. He knew they had other things to do, of course, but he was excited that they might be willing to help him learn what he could do with it.

“Thanks.”

Clint picked up a basketball and tossed it to Peter.

“Let’s play some ball,” he suggested.

The boy was a bundle of energy, and Tony would probably appreciate it if they wore him down a little before bedtime.

“Okay.”


	23. 23

“That’s incredible…”

_“Natasha Romanoff is correct, sir,”_ JARVIS said. “ _He’s an amazing little guy.”_

Tony had watched Peter work his way up the line of dumbbells in disbelief, each being picked up, easily, by the little boy. Now they were simply playing with the basketball; Sam and Peter playing keep away from Natasha and Clint, and the little boy running around full bore, but proving that he definitely _didn’t_ have super speed.

He was pretty agile, though.

“Yes, he is. Did he tell you about being so strong?”

_“Yes.”_

“What could possibly have done that to him?” Stark asked his AI. “I mean, genetics? Radiation? What kind? How did it make him strong, but not simply kill him?”

_“I have been running scenarios since he told me of it_ ,” JARVIS told him. _“But Peter doesn’t know the type of radiation used, and I wasn't able to locate any experiments using anything but low-level types of microwave radiation at the lab he visited with his class. If it was another kind of experiment, then it wasn't in their records, and it certainly wasn't approved by their charter.”_

“Huh. So it happened in a _lab_?”

Tony had simply been throwing ideas out, as he usually did when trying to solve a puzzle.

There was a slight hesitation, as if the AI realized that it had given away more than intended.

_“Correct. During a school field trip.”_

“And Pepper wonders why I don’t like field trips…” Tony frowned. “What lab?”

_“Osborn International.”_

Stark knew the name well.

“So it could be _anything_ , really… they do a shit ton of research on a lot of secretive things.”

_“Correct. But none of their security protocols can keep me out. Whatever they were working on when Peter was there is off the grid.”_

Tony watched as Peter overran his own feet and stumbled as he chased Clint to try and get the ball back that the archer had just stolen. He smiled at the grin on the boy’s face.

“Maybe I’ll talk to Bruce. _He_ gets strong…”

_“And turns green. Peter doesn’t.”_

“Well, yeah. But it’ll be a start.” He shrugged. “The _why_ isn’t nearly as important as the _what_ , I suppose.”

But he hated not knowing why something happened.

_“I will continue to look into the possibilities.”_

“You do that.”

Tony was suddenly restless, because he’d learned something new and astounding about Peter, and he thought that he’d already known everything he needed to know about the boy. He wanted to go to the gym and confront him. Wanted to ask him a million questions about how this had happened. He knew that he couldn’t, though. Not the question part, anyway. It was his fault that Peter hadn’t told him what he’d told Natasha and the others, and now he was going to have to figure out a way to regain the trust that he’d lost when he’d yelled at the boy. Barging into the gym and demanding information wasn't going to work. He looked at the screen, again, and smiled when saw that they were playing some kind of tag, now, and the sound of Peter’s laughter was echoing through the large room.

“Call Pepper Potts,” he said, still smiling.

He had to make a couple of calls, but then he thought – maybe – he’d wander down to the gym and watch them. Or maybe play, too. Who knew?

><><><>>><

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I’m not _sleepy_.”

Tony frowned, reaching a hand out and brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead. The little boy was sitting in the lounge on the couch, reading one of the books that he’d pulled from the shelf. Steve hadn’t been annoyed with him, when he’d found him there the day before, so Peter assumed that it would be alright for him to return, when he’d woken from a bad dream and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep.

“Feeling okay?” Tony asked, suddenly worried that the soaking he’d taken the morning before had made him sick, or something.

Maybe the doctor had missed something? What if his lip was infected, and it was making him sick? Common sense told him that he was being ridiculous, but he was responsible for the little guy, just then, and he wanted to make sure he was doing right by him.

Peter’s own response dispelled those concerns.

“Yes. Just not tired.”

He didn’t have a fever, Tony decided, and the bruise on his chin looked much less serious hours from the worry that he’d felt when it had happened. Even his lip didn’t seem so badly cut when Tony pulled it back to take a peek.

“You _looked_ pretty tired, earlier.”

Stark _had_ joined them in the gym and even though he didn’t run around much, Peter _had_. He’d chased Clint, and Sam – and even Natasha, trying to get the ball and make baskets. By the time Peter’s normal bedtime came, the Avengers had worn the little boy out. They’d stopped in the lounge to have a before bedtime snack – nothing with sugar to avoid making him bounce off the walls – and then it had been Tony who had put him to bed, with the promise of pancakes for breakfast the next morning.

Only JARVIS had woken the billionaire sometime around two am, advising him that Peter was moving around the corridors, and had ended up in the lounge. Still concerned about aftermaths of the soaking he’d taken, and wanting to keep him out of the way – especially in a super secure facility such as the compound – Tony had rolled out of his bed, immediately.

Dressed in the sweats and long-sleeved shirt he’d gone to bed in, Tony had simply slid his feet into slippers and gone to make sure he was alright, and to put him back to bed.

“I was, _then_ ,” Peter told him. “Just not, now.”

“Do you often have trouble sleeping?”

Peter nodded.

“Sometimes. Eric lets me stay up, as long as I don’t short myself, he says. Usually I read, or work on school stuff.” He hesitated. “Or talk to JARVIS.”

Tony nodded.

“He’s good company.”

“Yeah.” Peter held up the book he’d been reading. “I thought I’d just stay out of the way and read.”

“Which is _fine_ ,” Stark said, reaching out and picking the child up. “But I don’t want you going home and Eric thinking we’re keeping you up all hours of the night. Bad enough he’s already going to know we let you run face-first into a tree. He’s not going to let you come back if you’re tired, grumpy _and_ beat up, and I really want to be able to bring you back.”

Peter smiled, his expressive eyes looking surprised.

“You do?”

“Yeah. If _you_ do, that is?”

“Wow.”

Tony’s smile was amused, and he felt his insides turn to goo as Peter put his arms around him, allowing his cheek to fall to Stark’s shoulder.

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good. It won’t be next weekend, but we’ll see about the weekend after that.”

“Okay.”

“But _only_ if you go to sleep.”

“I’ll try.”

They were quiet as Tony carried Peter to his little room and put him back to bed. The little arms – so much stronger than they should have been – held him until the very last minute, only letting him go when Tony had Peter settled. Those big brown eyes Tony was beginning to become so fond of watched him as the billionaire pulled the blankets up over him, tucking them around him, carefully.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked the boy.

“Yes.”

Tony hesitated. Peter didn’t look at all sleepy, and it bothered him to think of the boy laying in the dark, alone.

“Want me to sit with you for a while?” he asked, uncertainly, wondering how the offer would be accepted.

Maybe he was reading things wrong and Peter was just waiting for him to leave so he could close his eyes. The boy nodded, though, looking hopeful.

“For a little while?” He asked, “Please?”

“Sure.” He shifted, moving onto the bed until he was sitting next to where Peter was, and he used one of the extra pillows to prop himself up. “I used to have trouble sleeping when I was younger,” he told Peter.

“You did?”

“Mh-mmm.” He brushed Peter’s bangs back. “Probably all really smart kids do,” he added. “Can’t get your mind to shut off enough to sleep the whole night through.”

“I have bad dreams, sometimes,” Peter admitted.

“Yeah? About what?”

“All kinds of things. People chasing me. Monsters in the dark. I used to make May mad, always wanting my light on. She said it kept her awake, even when it was in my room, because she knew I was wasting power that she had to pay for.”

“That’s rough, buddy. Does Eric let you have a night lite?”

“He _would_ ,” Peter said, turning a little so he could look up at Tony. “But it would keep the other kids awake. And that wouldn’t be fair to them.”

There were two boys in the same room as Peter, Tony knew. Ned, who was twelve and the closest to Peter’s age, and a thirteen-year-old named Chad. There were two other rooms, aside from the one for Eric and his wife, and their lone biological son, who had a room of his own.

“That’s considerate of you.”

Peter smiled, sleepily.

“If they don’t sleep they would be grumpy. So it’s kind of self-defense, too.”

“Have any of them ever tried to hurt you?”

Peter shook his head.

“Not physically. Eric doesn’t allow that. They bully me, sometimes – because I’m littlest.”

“And smarter than them?”

“Yeah.”

“I used to get a lot of shit for being smarter than all of the kids around me, too,” Tony assured him, settling in a little more comfortably. “It isn’t easy, is it?”

“No.” The little boy snuggled himself against Tony’s side, almost automatically, as if he realized that Tony was willing to cuddle. “Steve wouldn’t like you saying _shit_ , you know… He’d say you’re corrupting me.”

“Don’t tell him, okay?”

“Okay.”

Tony rubbed Peter’s back, absently, and changed the subject to some of the easier points of the test that the boy had passed, wanting him back in his comfort zone, but not thinking so hard that it would keep him awake.

Eventually Peter drifted off back to sleep, and Tony smiled, detaching himself carefully, before covering him back up and heading back to his own room.

Putting a little kid to bed wasn't something that he was used to doing, but he thought that he’d done alright for a beginner.

“JARVIS? Let me know if Peter wakes up, again.”

_“Very well, sir.”_

He went back to bed, too.


	24. 24

“I had fun. Thank you.”

Tony smiled as he watched the most dangerous woman in the world (maybe even the _universe_?) try not to cry. Romanoff leaned over and hugged Peter, hard, picking him up and pressing a kiss against his cheek.

“Not as much fun as _I_ did,” she assured him. “We’re not done, yet, either,” she reminded him, softly. “Still gotta figure out what makes you tick, right?”

The little boy hugged her back.

“Yeah.”

He was put onto his feet, and smiled at Steve, Sam, and Clint, again. He’d already said all his goodbyes, and his backpack was stuffed full of Avengers clothing and swag for himself, while he also had another bag that had been filled with SHIELD and Captain America sweatshirts for the other boys in the home, as well as a coffee cup for Eric’s wife and a keychain for Ned. He didn’t know that the other kids were going to be happy to see him after an entire weekend of not having to put up with hearing how much smarter he was than them, but they’d definitely like the swag.

“Tony will bring you out here, again, soon,” Steve told Peter. “If he knows what’s _good_ for him.”

Stark rolled his eyes, but it was all good-natured. He knew they would want to see Peter, again, and he’d had a good time, as well, so wasn't completely against the idea of another trip out. It’d have to be for a weekend, though, since the drive to the compound was too long to just make an afternoon of it.

“Of course we’ll be back,” he assured the boy – _and_ the avengers. “We’d stay longer, but they have to save the world, and I have to make money – and _you_ can’t miss any more school than you already have.”

Peter smiled at that.

He’d had a lot of fun. Aside from the terrible time with Tony when he’d met JARVIS, officially, the rest of the weekend had been better than anything he could ever remember. Certainly better than anything in _recent_ times. He’d been the center of attention, and even though he knew it was wrong to wallow in it, he really had done just that and enjoyed every moment.

Even more, Natasha, Clint and Sam all knew his secret, now.

More than just the strength thing, too, apparently, because when he’d gone to breakfast with Tony that very morning, Clint had commented on his busted lip looking much better than it had the day before. Tony had examined his face, carefully, even having him open his mouth so he could check the inside part that he’d cut with his teeth, but it hadn’t hurt, and when he chanced a look in a mirror, he saw that the bruise that had been so dark the night before when he’d brushed his teeth had faded to yellowish purple already.

“Maybe you weren’t hurt as bad as the doctor thought…” Tony had said, speculatively. “That’s _good_ , though.” He’d smiled and tousled Peter’s hair – something that Peter couldn’t remember people doing to him, before – but it was something that he was coming to like, too. “Now Eric won’t beat me up for letting you get hurt.”

The look on Romanoff’s face said that she suspected more was going on than it not being as bad as they’d thought. She’d seen it when Peter had hurt himself, and she knew it had been serious.

He was still smiling when he buckled himself into the passenger seat of the car, and he waved at the others, who were still hanging out to see him off, as if they didn’t have a lot of more important things to do that afternoon.

“Thanks for bringing me, Tony,” he said, as Stark started the car and honked the horn at the others before he drove them away from the compound. “It was great.”

“It was,” the billionaire agreed. “I’m glad you had fun.”

The boy smiled at that, and then turned his head to watch the scenery go by. He hadn’t been out in the country before, and the trees and open land going by was almost as much of a novelty as having spent the weekend with superheroes.

“I wish I could do it _every_ week,” he said, softly, and Tony wasn't sure if he’d meant to say it aloud or not, so he wasn't sure if he was supposed to reply.

“We’ll find something to do, next weekend,” Tony promised him. “It’s almost Halloween… maybe we’ll go to a pumpkin patch or something.”

“That’d be fun.”

“Good.” Tony reached out and tousled those curls, again. “I got you a present.”

“You did?”

“Yup. Can you reach behind my seat? There’s a green bag.”

Peter craned his head and saw what Tony was talking about, and twisted a little so he could get hold of the handle. It was bright, with a ribbon at the top, but nothing to indicate what was in it.

“What is it?”

“Open it up and see.”

The boy did as he was told, and pulled out a small tablet. An expensive one that was enveloped in a fine cover that zipped around it to protect it when it wasn't in use.

“Wow. This is for me?”

“Yeah. It’s set up for data, on my personal satellite network. That way you don’t have to worry if anyone is using the computer, and you want to use it.”

“Thanks…” Peter was examining it. “This is great.”

Tony smiled, pleased at the response to the gift. And pleased that he’d thought of it.

“You can also use it to talk to JARVIS,” he added, making Peter look over at him, surprised.

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“No. I think it’s great that you give JARVIS someone to talk to when I can’t be around to spend time with him.” He knew, really, that it was the other way around, of course, but he couldn’t say that. He hesitated, though, watching the road. “If you wanted, though,” he added. “You could talk to _me_ , too. If it’s late and you’re awake. Or if you had a bad dream and you need someone to talk to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“How do I know if you’re awake?”

“You ask JARVIS, of course.”

“Oh.” Duh. Peter looked at the tablet, and smiled, but also felt his eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Thank you, Tony.”

“You're welcome, buddy.”

><><><><>

“Really Tony?”

“What?”

“A Halloween party?”

“We’ve had Halloween parties, before, Pepper.”

“Not with a bunch of little kids.”

“It’ll be great. All the people that work here can bring their kids, have games, and a costume contest, or something, and stuff them full of sugar until they puke. It’ll be good for my public image, right? And good for morale.”

She raised an eyebrow, not at all convinced that he was concerned about his public image.

“Are you planning on inviting Peter?”

“It crossed my mind.”

“Huh.”

Tony ignored the look she gave him.

“Don’t read anything into it, Pep. I just thought it’d be a fun thing.”

“I’m sure he’ll have a great time.”

“Yeah. Set it up, will you?”

He couldn’t wait to see Peter’s reaction. Maybe he’d take him out to pick out a costume, even.

Peter had been increasingly present the last couple of weeks. Both at the tower, where he arrived after school and hung out, working on homework, but also sometimes just sitting in one of the leather chairs near Tony’s desk, watching him work, or talking to him about what he’d done at school that day, and also on outings away from the tower, and the foster home. Nothing overnight, like they’d done at the compound, but Tony had taken him on a couple of day trips to different locations in the city that were entertaining and fun for both of them. An arcade, where they’d spent an afternoon playing every videogame the place had to offer. There had also been a trip to a pumpkin patch, where Peter had excitedly grabbed Tony’s hand and dragged him all over the little farm, stopping to oooo and awwww over the smallest of things.

Stark had had a good time, he had to admit – _privately_ – but Peter had worn him out that day. They’d picked out pumpkins, they’d gotten themselves lost in the corn maze for almost an hour, had gone on a hayride which had culminated in Peter being allowed to feed the huge horse pulling the wagon a couple of carrots. The boy had fallen asleep on the way home, and Tony had handed the sleeping form over to Eric with a wry grin, and had then gone back to his apartment and fallen asleep, almost immediately, rather than spend his evening working on his newest suit design.

Most nights would find the boy talking to JARVIS, and on occasion to Tony, who was pleased that he’d set up the tablet that he’d given Peter to have video function so they could actually talk to each other, although Peter seemed to be reluctant to keep Tony awake, just because he couldn’t sleep. Little did he know just how little Tony actually slept most nights, or he wouldn’t have felt guilty at all.

Usually their conversations were nothing too extraordinary; what Peter was scheduled for in school the next day. What Tony was scheduled for at the tower, and every now and then both of them calling Natasha, or Steve, or one of the others, just to wake them up and say hello.

It was pleasant, and Tony looked forward to the end of his workday so he could see that cheerful little guy walking into his office.

Pepper rolled her eyes, but she didn’t complain. Of course, Tony knew that she was fond of Peter, too, and also thoroughly enjoyed the fact that Stark’s public image was going up, steadily. Not because the people saw him with the boy; more often than not when they went out, Tony wasn't recognized for who he was, and Peter tended to garner more attention because of those big brown eyes of his. No, having the boy around him made Tony feel less and less inclined to be a spectacle. Or to go to parties and pick up some floozie for the evening. Why would he want someone in his bed when Peter called to see if he was busy?

He certainly didn’t want JARVIS telling Peter that Tony couldn’t talk because he was entertaining some stranger.

“I’ll take care of it.,” Pepper told him.

Tony smiled.

“Thanks.”


	25. 25

The party was winding down when Eric came to collect Peter. Tony was surprised to see the big man, though, because the plan had been for _him_ to call Eric, first, and see if everyone was home, yet. The other kids had been invited to the same party that Peter had gone to, but had declined when they were told that it was going to last during prime trick-or-treating hours. Instead, they’d separated and gone to a few different events, depending on their age and interests.

“Eric. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Coffee if you have it, thanks.”

He was scanning the room, automatically looking for Peter, who was easy to spot, even in costume. He was the smallest person there, after all. The little boy was hanging out with Steve, Sam, Natasha and Rhodes. The Avengers were dressed as the main characters from the Wizard of Oz, although Dorothy hadn’t looked nearly as sexy on the big screen as Natasha Romanoff was looking.

“Everything alright?” Tony asked, noticing that he looked troubled, even as he took the coffee he was offered.

“Depends on how you look at it, I suppose.”

“Oh?”

“The state is moving Peter.”

“What? Why? And _where_?”

“My place was just supposed to be temporary,” Tatro explained. “Until they could find a place where he could be with kids closer to his own age, or – even rarer – a place where he’s the only child, to give him the special attention a kid as bright as he is needs. I never made the push for him to be moved, because I _really_ like him, but his social worker doesn’t want him with kids who are so much older – in case he gets hurt from them being much rowdier than him.” He looked over. “I got a call this morning that they’re placing him in a home where he’ll be the only child, and the woman who lives there is a retired teacher, so the social worker thinks it’s a perfect fit for a budding genius.”

Tony couldn’t help the moment of panic that he felt – and the sudden concern that this wasn't a good thing, no matter how they looked at it.

“Where is it?”

“In the city, still,” Eric said. “Closer to his school. Further from your tower, though.”

“The social worker won’t stop him from coming to my office after work, will he?”

The big man looked troubled.

“I don’t know, Tony. It’ll be up to the foster parent. I think you’re good for Peter. I’ll make a recommendation, of course, that she continues the mentoring, but I don’t have any clout, and the social worker won’t want to go against what the foster parent wants – to avoid making waves.”

“Does _Peter_ know?”

“No. Not yet. I wanted to make sure it was final before I mentioned it to him. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to?”

Eric shook his head.

“No. It’s not the first time I’ve had to have this conversation, Lord knows it isn’t going to be the last. I know how to break it to him.”

“If there’s anything I can do…

“I’ll let you know.”

“When are they moving him?”

“Wednesday.”

Ugh.

><><><><><><>

It was a very subdued little boy who walked into Tony’s office the next afternoon.

The billionaire noticed, immediately, that the ever-present backpack was stuffed full, and his heart ached for the little guy who was literally carrying his most precious possessions with him for fear of losing them, otherwise.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hi, Tony.”

The boy went to his desk and sat down, opening his backpack to get his schoolwork. Stark noticed that the first thing Peter had to move out of the bag was the stuffed bear that he’d won him on their first excursion out alone.

He felt his eyes sting.

“You okay?”

Peter wouldn’t look at him. He pulled out his papers, and nodded, but Tony heard a soft sniff, and was sure that he saw a tear drop off the boy’s cheek.

“They’re moving me from Eric’s.”

“I heard.” Tony walked over and brushed his fingers through those fine curls. “It might be for the best, though, Eric says. You’ll be the only kid there, and won’t have to share the attention. More hugs for you.”

“It’s going to be bad,” Peter told him, his voice breaking on the last word. “I know it.”

Tony reached down and picked him up, and Peter put his arms around the man, burying his face in his neck. The next sob escaped with very little effort.

“Shhh…” Tony crooned, trying to comfort when there was little he could offer.

He’d told Pepper what was going on when he’d arrived at the tower the next morning, and had asked her to see what the options were. Her response less than an hour later had been regretful, but succinct. The foster care system could move the kids whenever the social workers thought it was in their best interest, and she’d personally spoken to the social worker – despite the woman being on the road to an appointment.

Peter was a little guy, and a budding genius, and she didn’t want to risk him in a house filled with older boys who could possibly hurt him. He was being placed with a carefully screened foster parent who had a lot of money and a large house – even with a yard for the little boy, and a play area he’d have all to himself. It was a good placing, she said, and she promised to mention just how good it was for Peter to go to Tony’s after school every day.

“There’s nothing we can do.”

“Can’t a judge make them keep Peter where he is?”

She’d raised an eyebrow at that, and then her expression had softened.

“Keep him in a crowded home to avoid sending him to one that seems ideal? It won’t happen.”

“It’s not fair to him,” Tony said, scowling. “Moving him around? He was just getting stable.”

“I know.”

So he held Peter. Schoolwork forgotten, he walked over to the couch and sat down with the boy still in his arms, head tucked under his chin. Peter wasn't sobbing, not like he had when Tony had yelled at him back at the compound, but he was definitely not happy, and tears were leaking down his cheek to smear Tony’s neck and soak the shoulder of his expensive suit.

“I’ll miss you, Tony,” Peter told him, woefully, his voice muffled.

“You haven’t lost me, buddy,” Stark promised. “You’ll see. It’ll be okay.”

“It’ll _never_ be okay.”

“I’ll talk to the woman at the home, myself,” Tony told him. “So she understands just how amazing you are, and how much I want you to come see me after school. She’ll agree.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“She will.”

><><><><><><>

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no, Mr. Stark. I don’t intend to allow Peter to visit you after school. Not tomorrow, when he officially moves into my home, or any _other_ day.”

Tony frowned at the instant denial. Annoyed and really surprised. He hadn’t even done anything to piss her off, having had JARVIS find out who was taking over Peter’s care and then calling her and politely asking if he could come by and speak with her.

The house he was standing in was a pretty nice one, considering she was a retired teacher, and the woman herself was around his own age, graying and thin, with a stern expression as she regarded him, coldly.

“But why not?”

“Because I know who you _are_ , Mr. Stark,” she told him. “And I know your reputation. I don’t believe you’re a good role model for a small child like Peter, and I don’t intend to expose him to you _or_ your avenger companions any longer.”

“To the _avengers_ …?” Tony asked, incredulously. “You think _Captain America_ is a bad example for a little kid?”

“He’s a known killer.”

“He killed _bad_ people.”

“It still isn’t an element that Peter needs to deal with, and I won’t make him.”

“You don’t have to _make_ him,” Tony snapped, turning angry almost immediately and unable to hide it. “He _wants_ to come see me.”

She wasn't impressed.

“He’s eight. That means he doesn’t get a say in the matter.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. I have to go pick him up, now, so if you’ll excuse me…”

He bit back what he really wanted to say, knowing that making her mad wouldn’t do any good – and it might make things even harder on Peter. Instead, cursing under his breath, he left, and stewed angrily the entire way back to his office.

“JARVIS…” he scowled as he walked over to his desk and sat down, but he felt a pang of sorrow at the sight of the other desk sitting empty. “Run a check on Peter’s new foster mother. I want to know everything about her, and I want to know what she has against the Avengers – and me, in particular.”

“Yes, sir.”

He couldn’t sit still while he waited, though. He was far too angry. Instead, he got to his feet.

“I’ll be in Pepper’s office.”

The billionaire didn’t have to walk far to get there, and he gave a perfunctory knock on the door before storming in. She was sitting at her desk, and she looked up as he walked over and threw himself into the chair across from her.

“It didn’t go well?”

Stark scowled.

“That’s an understatement.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What did she say?”

“That Peter needs better role models than me and the Avengers.”

“Seriously?” She frowned, clearly surprised. “I get that she might not find _you_ to be the most reliable example, but the _Avengers_?”

“Yes.”

“That’s odd. Did she say why?”

“She doesn’t approve of us. Me, in particular, but she doesn’t even like _Rogers_. _Everyone_ likes Rogers.”

“Yes, they do.”

“What do we do? Can I kidnap him?”

Her expression was sympathetic.

“And then what? You’d have to return him.”

He huffed.

“I have JARVIS checking her out. Maybe he’ll dig up some dirt on her, I can turn her in and Peter can go back to the Tatro’s.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Pepper told him. “They usually do a pretty thorough check on the people they allow to be foster parents.”

“It’s all I’ve got,” he said. “For now.”


	26. 26

“Wait? _What_?”

Tony looked at Steve, his expression a mixture of angry and helpless.

“They took Peter from the Tatro’s and put him in a new home.”

“A _group_ home?”

“No. He’s the only one there – for his own good, according to the social worker. He can have more attention that way.”

“That’s _terrible_.”

Tony scowled.

“Oh, it gets _better_ ,” he told the other man. “I had JARVIS check her out. She’s a retired teacher living in a swanky neighborhood.”

“Teachers don’t make that much,” Natasha said. “How is she managing that?”

“She has a wealthy uncle that died, recently, and she was in the will. Probably why she retired.”

“I don’t see how this is a bad thing,” Rhodes admitted. “She’s a retired teacher, so she’ll understand why Peter’s education is so important, and he’ll be the only kid in the place. Sounds like a good placing for him.”

“Only the woman has already informed me that she isn’t going to allow Peter to see me after school, anymore. _And_ ,” he added. “She doesn’t care for the avengers as a _role model_ for a little boy, and won’t allow him out to see the rest of you, either.”

“Bullshit,” Sam said, scowling. “Who does she think she is? Telling us that we can’t see-“

“The state says that it’s up to her,” Tony interrupted. “Pepper looked into it.”

Romanoff frowned.

“What else?” she asked Tony, knowing that he knew something, still, that he hadn’t told them. Basically the other shoe, so to speak. “She has to have a reason.”

“She’s distantly related to Justin Hammer, who – as you all know – is currently in a state of disgrace. She almost certainly blames me – and Rhodey, here.”

“And – vicariously – the rest of us,” Steve said.

“That would be my assumption,” Stark agreed.

“That isn’t _acceptable_ ,” Natasha said. “We’re supposed to be doing Thanksgiving with him.”

Tony nodded.

“I know. But there’s nothing I can say or do about it. The foster homes aren’t autonomous, but they have a lot of say in the lives of the children placed with them. I don’t know if she’s just taking it out on Peter that she doesn’t like us, or if it’s that she really thinks it’s in his best interest to keep him away, but either way, I’m not sure what to do. He might even like it, there. I don’t know.”

“You haven’t talked to him?”

“He can’t come to my office after work, and obviously, I can’t stalk him at his school.” He frowned. “I was hoping to talk to him, overnight, using the network and the tablet that I gave him, but he hasn’t been on for three nights, now. JARVIS has been watching for him.”

Romanoff’s eyes glittered almost dangerously.

“We’re certain that he’s alright?”

“JARVIS has pulled up video of him going to school and coming home. She drives him to and from, and then – so far – he hasn’t seemed to leave the house. She doesn’t have security cameras in her home, so JARVIS can’t hack them and see what he’s up to.”

Meaning that he’d already considered that.

“What’s her name?” Natasha asked.

“You can’t kill her,” Tony told her, quickly.

The assassin rolled her eyes.

“Her _name_ , Tony.”

“Chelsea Marples.”

Steve looked at Romanoff.

“He’s _right_ ; you can’t kill her.”

“I’m not going to,” she assured them, not at all offended by their automatic assumptions. “But I’ll do a wellness check with Peter, and get back to you and let you know what I find out.”

><>><><><>

It was late, and the house was dark. Including the little room on the second floor.

Peter was sitting on his bed when he heard the noise. Just the faintest of sounds, but it practically echoed in his head in the stillness around him. He looked up from the book that he’d been browsing through, and was shocked to see Natasha Romanoff’s face looking at him through the one window in his bedroom. He gasped, and saw he put her finger over her lips, silencing him before he could say anything.

The little boy set the book aside and hopped lightly out of the bed and silently crossed the floor, opening the window.

_“Natasha!”_

It was a stage whisper, but she shushed him, even as she carefully let herself into the bedroom through the window, moving so silently that even Peter didn’t hear anything but the faintest rustling of clothing. He watched her, impatiently, until she was finally standing in front of him, and then he threw himself into her arms with a muffled noise of happiness.

“Are you here to _rescue_ me?” he asked, softly, as she hugged him close and pressed a kiss against his ear.

The woman pulled back, looking down at him in the very faint light given off from a streetlight a block away.

“I’m here to _check_ on you,” she told him, studying him for any sign of abuse. “Tony’s beside himself with worry since he hasn’t heard from you – even at night – and the rest of us miss you.”

“Miss Marples won’t let me go to Tony’s after school, anymore,” Peter told her, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “She says he’s a bad person, and she doesn’t want me corrupted by him – or you and the others. She took my tablet, too – and my cell phone. She says I’m too young to have a phone, and that the tablet is too expensive and I’ll just break it. She’s keeping it safe for me.”

Even whispering Natasha could hear how upset Peter was, and knew it had been rough, despite the fact that the room she was standing in was nearly appointed, with a bed, a dresser, and even a TV on the wall. He was clean, and the pajamas he was wearing looked to be new – but they weren’t the Ironman ones that Tony had been so proud of.

“What _else_?”

“She won’t let me stay up at night. I have to keep my light off – so I can sleep, she says.”

“You were reading.”

“I can see in the dark. But I can’t watch TV, or use the computer, or do anything.” He looked mournfully at her. “My watch is missing.”

“Your _father’s_ watch?”

He nodded, and now the tears that had been threatening began to fall.

“I had it before the cleaning people came, but it was gone when I looked for it, later. I told Miss Marples, but she said I just lost it and should have done a better job of keeping track of my things.”

The little boy sobbed, and Natasha held him, close, comforting him for a long time.

“Hang in there, baby,” she told him. “We’re going to figure this thing out, okay…?”

He nodded, but he didn’t relax in her embrace for a long time, and it was getting very close to dawn before she finally put him to bed and snuck back out the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short, and a little sad, but the good is coming, I promise


	27. 27

The school was always bustling at the end of the day. Kids (all of them much older and bigger than Peter) were eager to get home, parents and school busses were queuing up at all entrances to collect students, and even the teachers were heading out as quickly as they could get away with it. This was especially the case on Fridays, when they were all anticipating the upcoming weekend, or – even better, for most of them – on a Wednesday like this day, when it was the start of a holiday.

Thanksgiving break was upon them, and they were all excited to have a few extra days off school.

All of them but _Peter_ , that was.

Before, he would have been excited. Tony had told him – before he was moved from Eric’s – that they were going to celebrate Thanksgiving with the Avengers. Not at the compound, because that wasn't the place to have such a fancy meal, but at Tony’s own apartment. They hadn’t decided if there was going to be a caterer or if it was going to be a potluck style meal, with the others each bringing a dish, and Tony providing the turkey – which he’d assured Peter that he knew how to bake, although the boy had had his doubts.

Now, however, he didn’t have that to look forward to.

He’d been informed ( _not asked_ ) that they were going to be going to the house of one of her relatives. He got the impression that the relative was wealthy, and some kind of business mogul, although she never actually mentioned any names. She was looking forward to taking Peter to meet him, though, she said, because the boy’s brilliance was going to impress her relatives and those who were going to be attending.

“I’m not going to have you put on a show,” she’d assured him, when she’d told him about the plan. “But I _do_ want you to wow them with some formulas and equations, perhaps. As young as you are? You’ll amaze them all – and maybe there will be a special program that Justin can establish to make sure you have the opportunity to go to the college of your choice. ”

Peter had simply excused himself, saying that he needed to finish his schoolwork – which hadn’t exactly been the truth – and had gone back to his room and sat on the bed, hoping that maybe later Natasha might show up, again, at his window. So far, it had only been the one time the week before, but he was up, anyway, so it didn’t hurt that he stood by the window, looking out hopefully.

“Hey, kid…” a voice said, bringing him out of his reverie. “You look like you could probably use a ride.”

Peter’s head shot up, and he turned, hardly daring to believe what his ears were telling him. Sure enough, though, standing by the door, leaning against the brick wall and dressed very casually in jeans and a sweatshirt against the chill of the afternoon, Tony Stark was watching him.

_“Tony!”_

The billionaire smiled, and Peter ran the few steps to him, and was immediately caught up in strong arms, which lifted him, backpack and all and hugged him close.

“Hey, buddy. I sure missed the hell out of you.”

Peter held him tight, burying his face into the man’s neck and unable to speak around the lump that was suddenly choking him up. It was okay, though, because Tony was holding him, tightly, too, and Peter heard him sniff, softly. After a long moment of initial elation, Peter pulled back – but didn’t let him go.

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“Came to pick you up from school.”

His eyes were moist, but they looked happy. And smug.

“Miss Marples picks me up,” he reminded him.

“Not any longer.”

Stark shifted his grip, but didn’t put Peter down as he turned and walked away from the building. Peter saw his car parked along the curb; the sleek sportscar out of place among the minivans and sensible sedans most of the others drove.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s talk about it,” he replied. “But not here. It’s too noisy.”

“Are you kidnapping me?” Peter asked, curiously, only letting Tony go when the man opened his car door and put him on his feet so he could help him get his backpack off and put it in the back of the car. It was just as heavy as Tony remembered it being, but now he knew why Peter carried it so easily.

He buckled Peter into the front seat.

“I thought about it,” he admitted. “About a million times, the last couple of weeks.”

“You’d get in trouble.”

“You’d be worth it.” He smiled and shut the door, and then went around to get behind the wheel. “But to answer your question; no. I’m not _kidnapping_ you.”

“Where are we going, then?” he asked. His expression grew concerned. “To Miss Marples’?”

“Nope. Hush for now, okay? I need to concentrate on traffic.”

He smiled when he said it, though, to make sure the little boy understood that he wasn't annoyed with the questions.

“Okay.”

“Did you have a good day at school?”

“Yes.”

“Have they begun to place you in those pre-college courses?”

“I thought you had to concentrate on _traffic_ …?”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“It’s small talk, buddy. I can do small talk and drive. It’s the important conversations I can’t multitask with. Answer the question; I’ve been out of the loop.”

“They’re testing me for what classes I can do at my school and if I need to go to an actual class at a regular college where there is a professor. It could take a few weeks, or they might wait to figure it out until the beginning of the year.”

“You’re okay with that?”

“Yes.” He looked out the window. “Where are we going?”

Tony had missed the turn for Miss Marples’ house, which was a relief, but had also missed the turn that would have taken them to the tower, which he’d been holding out hope for. An afternoon with Tony in his office – even if he worked on classwork – would still be better than an afternoon in his fancy new house.

“To get ice cream.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” Tony reached over and tousled Peter’s hair. “Interested?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me more about what they said about your classes.”

Peter did as he was told, and was almost relieved to have Tony to talk to, again. He didn’t have to explain things to Tony, after all, like he did everyone else – even Miss Marples, who was pretty smart, herself. As he told him what the counselor and teachers had told him, he watched the buildings, trying to get an idea of where they were really going, and he was surprised when they pulled up to the front of Tony’s apartment building.

The valet saw the car coming and immediately rushed to the driver’s side, not seeing Peter until Stark had stopped the car.

“We’re having ice cream _here_?”

“Yup. I’ll get your backpack. Be careful.”

They were near a busy street, after all.

There wasn't any reason to be concerned, however, since another valet had hurried over to the passenger side of the car and was already opening the door for the little boy, being careful to stand between Peter and the street, and offering him a hand, immediately.

Peter took it, smiling at Tony when he was walked over to stand by the billionaire and the car was driven away.

“Wow.”

“Come on,” Stark said, and now it was his hand that Peter held as they walked into the lobby.

There was a lot of security, but no one stopped Tony or his little companion as they went to the private elevator that led only to Tony’s apartment. Peter had been to the place a couple of times, before, but it was still exciting. He knew that some of the security people were SHIELD agents, after all, and that was heady stuff for an eight year old.

The elevator opened into a small foyer that also provided access to a stairwell – in case of emergencies. Without needing to unlock the keypad, Stark opened the door and walked the boy into Tony's apartment. He set Peter’s backpack on the sofa as he let the boy’s hand go.

_“Hello, Peter,”_ JARVIS said, the moment the elevator closed. “ _Welcome_.”

Peter smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Ice cream?” Tony reminded him, walking across the open living room area toward the kitchen.

“Yeah.”

Peter went over to join him, and was surprised to find a new barstool at the island. It was similar to the others in that it matched them, but it also had a couple of metal spurs on the main support, and the boy found that they were perfect for allowing him to climb to his seat without needing to be picked up and put into place.

“Like it?” Tony asked, watching with a pleased expression as Peter figured out the new chair on his own.

“It’s great.”

“I got it for you.”

“Really?” That made him smile, and he couldn’t help but hug himself. “Thanks.”

Tony opened the freezer.

“Rocky Road?”

“Yeah.” He watched as Stark dished up two bowls; one with rocky road and the other with pistachio. “You’re not going to get in trouble for picking me up from school?”

“No.” Tony set a bowl in front of the boy, and retrieved a spoon. “Let me ask you something. And be honest, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You and I get along pretty well, right? I mean, I know I freaked out on you at the compound, but aside from that you know I really like you. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What would you say if I said that Pepper got me certified to be a foster parent in the state of New York?”

Peter hesitated, even as he was scooping a spoonful of ice cream from his bowl.

“Like Eric, you mean?” he clarified. “And Miss Marples?”

“Right.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to come live with me, and it was the only way that we could make it happen – legally – anyway.”

The spoon clattered to the floor.

“What?”


	28. 28

That made Tony smile.

“I was thinking that if I became a foster parent, then you might be willing to come live with me. What do you think?”

“Really?”

Peter was searching his expression, carefully, as if uncertain that it wasn't some kind of trick – although he had to know Tony well enough by then to know that he’d never do something so horrible as to get his hopes up like that.

“Yeah. But unlike the other places, I wanted you to have a say in things. So I’m formally _asking_ you if you’d like to come live here. With me.”

The boy hesitated, and Tony watched Peter’s expression as carefully as he’d been watching his own. It went from surprise, to disbelief and then to a happiness that was tinged with awe – and then, to Tony’s dismay – they filled with tears.

“You want me to stay here?”

“Yes.”

Peter pushed his bowl aside and lowered his head onto his arms and cried.

It wasn't the reaction that Tony had expected. He frowned, wondering if maybe Peter didn’t _want_ to stay with him. Maybe he _liked_ it at the other home, despite the report that Tony had received from Romanoff that made it seem otherwise?

“Peter…” he set his spoon down and came around to the other side of the island so he could put his hand on the little boy’s back, rubbing it, awkwardly. “Hey… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

The boy looked up, eyes red, cheeks wet and snot running from his nose.

“You really want me to move in with you?”

“Yes.”

He’d thought long and hard about it, once he’d heard from Natasha. _She’d_ been shaken when she’d woken him, having come directly to his place from sneaking into the foster home to check on the boy, and had mentioned that maybe she would see if _she_ could become a foster parent, and try to get custody of the boy rather than leave him where he was, when he was obviously so sad.

Or maybe _Clint_ , since he already had a big farm and a couple of kids that Peter could play with.

As much as Tony liked Barton, _and Romanoff_ , he hadn’t been wild about the idea. It took him almost a day of introspective scrutiny before he admitted to himself that he might not like the idea of someone else getting Peter to live with them because it was something that he was interested in doing, himself.

He liked Peter. _Really_ liked him, too, and not just because the boy was so brilliant, and had big brown eyes that were sometimes so happy that it made Tony’s heart soar. Peter was _good_. And deserved good things, and that just hadn’t happened, yet. Tony was honest enough to admit that he wasn't the greatest role model out there, but he cared about the little guy, and maybe that was enough to make up for his lack of experience dealing with little kids.

The billionaire had discussed it with Pepper, of course, and had somehow convinced her that he was sincere, and wasn't _crazy_ , and she’d done everything from there. He’d had the conversation Monday, and by Tuesday Tony was certified as a foster parent. Then Pepper had gone to a judge that she knew, and spoken with her, and a couple of city officials. Getting custody of Peter for Tony hadn’t been _easy_ , but proving that the boy would be better off with someone who was smart enough to understand him wasn't the hardest thing Pepper had ever done, and she’d handed the emergency injunction over to Tony Wednesday morning and told him that Peter was his – at least as far as foster care was concerned.

Tony had immediately made calls to have his spare room – and the rest of the apartment – made more child friendly, and had then gone over to Marples’ house, personally, to collect anything that was still there that belonged to Peter.

He knew the really important things would be in Peter’s backpack, but there were some clothes, and he pointedly asked for the tablet, the dinosaur cell phone, and Peter’s father’s watch. The phone and tablet were easy, but Marples didn’t have the watch, and told Stark that quite frankly, she didn’t believe that someone with the cleaning company stole the watch as Peter had claimed. She was certain he’d lost it.

That comment had left Stark fuming, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He simply gathered the bag of items and left, pointedly leaving the front door wide open when he did.

He was a foster parent, now, yeah. But he could still be a petty jerk. At least with others. He was going to have to work on making sure that he didn’t present that façade to Peter.

>><><><><<

“For how long?” Peter asked.

Tony hesitated. He hadn’t really _thought_ of that. Then he shrugged.

“Until you get tired of me, I suppose.”

“Or you get tired of me?”

“ _That’s_ not going to happen, Peter,” Tony told him. He scooped the boy up into his arms, ignoring the snot bubble that popped against his jaw. “I’m never going to get tired of having you around. I like your company too much.”

Peter sniffed, his arms coming around Tony’s neck.

“You mean it?”

“Yes.” Tony brushed Peter’s curls back from his forehead, and then reached for a dishcloth to wipe his face. “What do you think?” he asked. “Should we give it a try?”

Peter nodded, but couldn’t answer around the lump in his throat. It was answer enough that he hugged the billionaire, tightly, and didn’t let him go for several long minutes. Minutes that Tony spent simply crooning to him, and rubbing his back.

“Are we going to have Thanksgiving?” Peter asked, softly.

“Of course. Everyone’s looking forward to it. If you’re alright with them still coming over.”

He nodded, again.

“Yeah.”

Tony turned his head and pressed a kiss against Peter’s cheek.

“Do you want to finish your ice cream?” he asked. “Or do you want to see your new room?”

“I get my own room?”

Tony smiled tenderly at him, still holding him.

“You can’t sleep on the _couch_ , can you?”

“I _could_.”

Peter felt a surge of happiness. He’d sleep on the _floor_ if that was what it took for him to be able to stay with Tony. He knew the state wouldn’t allow that, of course, and knew _Tony_ wouldn’t, either.

“Well, you have your own room,” Stark assured him. He set Peter down and picked up the spoon that had been dropped. “Come on, let’s go see if you like it, or if we need to change some things up.”

Peter was almost nervous when Tony led him across the living room and toward the closed door. He hung back, hiding behind Tony’s leg as the door was opened. Tony smiled down at him, noticing what he was doing, but uncertain _why_ he was doing it.

“It’s okay, Peter,” he told him, a hand going to the boy’s shoulder. “Tell me what you think.”

Peter peeked into the room, and gasped, his eyes widening.

There was a bed, of course. A huge bed, that was so high up there was even a small step at the bottom to assist Peter getting onto it. There were a million pillows, and a blue comforter that looked warm and soft. The room also had a desk, and Peter saw that there was a display screen, but no keyboard or mouse – which told him it was almost certainly integrated into JARVIS, since Tony never used a mouse or keyboard. He either told his AI what he wanted to do, or manipulated the screen, manually.

The boy saw that his tablet and phone were on the desk, too.

“Wow.”

Tony’s smile widened.

“ _I_ wanted Ironman for your bedspread, but Natasha and Pepper both vetoed it. _They_ called me a megalomaniac. Can you believe that?”

Peter had wrapped his arms around himself as he walked into the room, not missing the giant flat screen television on the wall, and the small table in the corner near the closet. There were several storage cubicles in different bright colors. He went over and looked in them, curiously, and found that they held toys and games of all sorts. Legos of every color and size, tinker toys, electronic gadgets and an entire bookcase that was filled with puzzles, boardgames and – of course – books.

“This is all for me?” he asked, noting that there were two chairs at the table, but one was much smaller than the other.

“And _me_ ,” Stark told him, feeling smug and pleased at just how awestruck the child was. “If you’re okay with me spending time with you. We don’t _always_ need to do your schoolwork – or my tinkering. Sometimes, we could just goof off. Together.”

“Wow.”

The closet was a walk in type, and there was a dresser in it. Peter opened every drawer and found it was filled with jeans and t-shirts, socks and underwear, sweats and his pajamas – and even a new pair of shoes sitting beside it. There was also a warm winter coat – and this time, he noticed it _was_ red and gold – and galoshes, a hat, and even mittens and a scarf.

“Do you like it?”

Peter nodded, silently, and walked into the bathroom. He turned to look at Tony.

“Where are your things?”

“In _my_ bathroom,” came the reply. “This one is just for you.”

There was a tub with a showerhead that Peter couldn’t reach, and a sink that had a new toothbrush and paste – and on the edge of the tub was a little yellow duck.

“I get my own bathroom?”

“Yup. But you have to keep it clean. We didn’t have time to retrofit the shower so you can get to it, but I’ll get that taken care of after the holiday. Until then, you’ll have to settle for baths.”

“Okay.” Peter never took showers, so that wasn't an issue – but he thought it might be fun to try. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Tony looked around the room. “Why don’t you get settled in?” he suggested, deciding that Peter could use a little bit of time to adjust. “Then we need to go to the store.”

“For what?”

“If everyone’s coming over for Thanksgiving, tomorrow, we need to go buy a turkey and some other groceries. I wanted to wait, so you could come, too, and help me decide what we want to get.”

“Can I help cook?”

“I’m certainly not going to do it all by myself.”

Stark tousled his hair, and then left the room, and Peter looked around, uncertain what to do, first.

“JARVIS?”

_“Yes, Peter?”_

“Wow.”

_“Do you like your room?”_

“It’s incredible.”

_“Do you see anything that you need but was not supplied?”_

“Not right now.”

_“Then settle in. If you need anything, ask me – or go find Tony. He’s in the kitchen.”_

“Okay.”

The boy ran his hand along the bed, and then stepped up the little step and climbed onto it. He wrapped his arms around himself, again, as he looked around, and for a moment allowed himself to believe that he was finally going to be happy. With a laugh that he couldn’t hold back, he scrambled to his feet and started jumping on the bed, a display of pure exuberance that he couldn’t help, just then.

Time enough later to face reality, after all, and he _was_ a small boy, despite his brilliance. Even a genius could be forgiven for hoping, despite the evidence he’d already been presented with that life would almost certainly toss him another roadblock, eventually.


	29. 29

Peter was still sitting on his bed when there was a soft knock on his door and Tony peeked in.

“Doing okay?”

The boy smiled, and nodded.

“Yes. It’s a _lot_.”

The billionaire smiled, too, pleased with himself for making that happy expression happen. He walked into the room and Peter saw that he was carrying the boy’s backpack, which he set on the desk.

“I know. But you deserve it. Do you feel up to going to the store with me?”

Another nod, and a little bit of excitement. Peter scooted himself to the edge and hopped off the bed.

“Yes. What are we getting?”

“Well… let’s go make a list. Come on.”

They went out into the kitchen, and the bowls of ice cream that had been mostly untouched were gone. Now that he wasn't quite so dazed, Peter had a chance to look around a little more, but kitchens were kitchens to eight year olds. As long as there was a fridge, and a counter, life was right. He frowned, though. There was a coffee maker on the counter, and a block of wood that had handles sticking out of it – similar to the knife holder at the Tatro’s and even Miss Marples – but something was missing.

“You don’t have a _toaster_?”

Tony shook his head, smiling, as he picked Peter up to sit him on the island so he had a better view of what was going on.

“I do not. Think we need one?”

“How do you make poptarts and eggos?”

“And _that’s_ a yes…” Stark said, amused. “Don’t fall off, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Tony handed his personal tablet to Peter.

“Your job is to write out our shopping list.” Since the boy had the typical handwriting of an eight year old – despite being brilliant – there was no way he was handing him a pencil and a piece of paper for that particular job. “And put toaster right on the top.”

“Okay.”

Tony opened the fridge.

“We need carrots. And milk.”

“Can we have _chocolate_ milk?”

“Put it on the list.”

Peter practically shivered with excitement as he did.

“Meat… cheese… mayo…” the list went on and on, as Tony thought of things that they would need for their own personal meals for the next week. He didn’t _normally_ cook, but he didn’t want to get into the habit of feeding Peter fast food and takeout every day, either, so what he didn’t already know, he could learn. When they’d gone through the fridge, and then the pantry cupboards, he turned back to the boy. “Now… tomorrow the _others_ are bringing dessert, cold side dishes and beverages. We’re responsible for mashed potatoes, bread rolls and the turkey. Put that on the list.”

Peter did as he was told, and shook his head, amazed.

“It’s a pretty long list.”

“Then we’d better get to it.”

><><><><><<>

“So… ground rules…”

Peter looked at Tony, waiting. He wasn't surprised, of course. They were parked in a huge parking lot, outside a multi-department store, and the place looked busy. Of course, there were a lot of people doing last minute shopping like Tony and Peter were, so it wasn't surprising.

“Stay close to you?” Peter guessed.

“Right beside me,” he confirmed. If he could, he’d put the little guy on a _leash_ , just to make sure he didn’t lose him in the crowd. “Are you too old to sit in the cart?”

“That’s for babies.”

Too bad.

“Then stay close to me, okay? I don’t want to lose you, now that I’ve got you.”

That made Peter smile.

“Okay.”

“If you see something that you want, tell me. Even if it isn’t on the list. Don’t be _shy_. Got it?”

Peter nodded, excitedly.

“Yes.”

“Let’s go, then.”

><<><><>>

He didn’t do a ton of shopping for himself, and he’d never done any grocery shopping with a child, before, but Tony had a pretty good time.

It helped that Peter was very conscientious about staying close to Tony so he didn’t have to worry about him. The boy wasn't always at his side, but if he wasn't, then he made sure to hook his fingers into the metal of the shopping cart basket and walk beside it as they went up and down the aisles. With Stark dressed casually and accompanied by a little kid, no one even seemed to recognize him, so they weren’t in any real hurry.

The cart filled with the items on their list, including the toaster, but if Peter’s gaze lingered over something longer than a casual glance, or he looked twice at something, it invariably ended up in the cart, as well.

When they’d checked out and had the back of the car loaded with shopping bags, Tony suggested that since it was getting late, maybe they should just stop and get something to eat rather than try to cook for themselves. Peter agreed, willingly, and Tony promised himself they’d start eating at home the next day, instead. A quick run through the drive thru of a burger place and they were pulling up in front of the apartment building, once more, with Peter holding a bag of burgers, fries and chicken nuggets in one hand, and a chocolate milkshake in the other.

“Got it alright?” Tony asked, opening Peter’s door to help him out of the car.

“Yes.”

The billionaire took his own shake when the boy handed it over, and they headed for the elevator.

“What about our stuff?” Peter asked.

“The valets will have someone bring it up and deliver it to the door.” One of the benefits of living in a swanky apartment building. “I want to eat before it gets cold.”

“Oh.”

While they were eating, the copious amount of bags were delivered, but they waited until they were finished before putting them away. Peter wasn't a lot of help, but Tony made sure he watched, so he would know where everything was.

“We’ll have actual meal times,” Tony assured him. “Breakfast and dinner, at least – and lunch on days when you don’t have school. But if you’re hungry, or if you want a snack, then you can help yourself. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“No _cooking_ , though,” the billionaire added. “Leave that to me. That way I feel needed.”

Peter smiled at that, and he hugged himself, again, amazed.

“Okay.”

They’d bought a step stool, so Peter would be able to see at counter level when they were doing something in the kitchen, together (like cooking) but it was simply tucked against the side of the island, for now. Tony hefted Peter up onto the island, instead.

“What do you know about cooking turkeys?” he asked the boy, as they contemplated the frozen bird that they’d purchased.

The store – well aware that there were always people doing things last minute – had started to pre-thaw a couple of dozen turkeys of all sizes for those doing their shopping later than they should be. Tony and Peter had contemplated every one available, trying to decide what size they needed and finally asking JARVIS how big a bird was recommended for the amount of people anticipated. Then they bought that size. It was still somewhat frozen, however.

Peter shrugged.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, me either. I seem to remember the cook would thaw it, pull something from its insides and then put it in the oven, early. They need a lot of cook time. JARVIS?”

_“Correct, sir.”_ The AI almost sounded amused to find Tony at a loss for something so mundane. _“It needs to thaw, first. Put it on a pan in the refrigerator and you can check its progress in the morning.”_

They'd bought potatoes for mashing, but had cheated with the bread rolls, having opted for simply getting heat and serve rolls – although Peter had pointed to some roll your own and bake them croissants and had mentioned they were good when his mom used to make them. Tony had picked up a few tubes of them to make.

“Sounds good.” He did what he was told, and then turned his attention to Peter. “Did you bring home any schoolwork?”

“Yes.”

“Is it difficult?”

“No.”

“Then we’re not going to worry about it, tonight, okay? I think it’s been eventful enough, for you. What do you think?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

“Are you tired?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you go get ready for bed, and then come back out here and we’ll watch a movie.”

That would be relaxing, and hopefully put him to sleep. Tony was tired, even if Peter wasn't, and was ready to get off his feet for a while.

“Okay.”

Tony picked him up to put him onto the floor, but hugged him, for just a moment, before he did.

“I’m glad you’re here, buddy,” he told the boy, sincerely.

Peter wrapped his arms around Tony, hugging him, too.

“So am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will almost certainly be a lot of domestic fluff involved now that Peter is staying at Tony's. Just saying


	30. 30

Peter woke early the next morning in his new bed with no memory of how he got there. He stretched, the warm comforter tempting him to go back to sleep for a little while longer, even though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept through the night. He opened his eyes, looking around the bedroom with a fresh wonder. There were so many gadgets, and gizmos and even _toys_. Not that he’d ever been abused in his short life – although May’s care had been somewhat iffy, at best – but Tony seemed to be going all out for him, to make him feel wanted.

And he _did_.

They’d converged on the sofa the night before, and he remembered Tony draping a blanket over them as they settled in to watch a movie. The apartment was warm, even without the fire in the gas fireplace, and Peter had nestled himself right up against Tony’s side, feeling very much as if it were the most normal thing ever.

But he didn’t remember much past the opening credits of the family friendly movie they’d started watching.

“JARVIS?”

_“Good morning.”_

Peter smiled at the instant response, and the greeting.

“Good morning. Did I fall asleep, last night?”

_“Yes. Tony put you to bed when the movie was finished.”_

“Where is he?”

_“Still in bed. It’s early, yet. Although he_ did _go to bed at a reasonable time, last night – especially for him.”_

“Do I have to stay in bed until he wakes up?”

_“Of course not. Are you hungry?”_

“Not, yet.”

_“Then get yourself woken up and come out to the living room. You can keep me company while I look up how to cook that monster of a bird.”_

Peter laughed and rolled out of the bed, dropping to the floor, silently.

“What time are the others coming?”

_“The latest input I have is that they will attempt to be here by noon. Colonel Rhodes is looking forward to watching football, and will probably arrive earlier, so he can be here before the game starts. His reasoning is that if the game is already on, the others will not be impolite enough to change to something else.”_

“Wow.”

><><><>><

When Tony came out of his bedroom, he found Peter sprawled on the couch, bundled in a blanket watching cartoons and eating a poptart. The billionaire yawned, and walked over to lean over the back of the sofa, touching the boy’s head from behind. Peter looked up at him and smiled, and it made Tony smile, too.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been up?”

The boy glanced at the clock.

“An hour.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You were _asleep_.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

He’d finally decided to have a poptart when hunger drove him into the kitchen, and JARVIS had suggested that he also pull the turkey from the fridge to give it a chance to thaw a little more.

“We’ll make breakfast and then start cooking.”

“Okay.” The boy turned off the TV and shoved the rest of the poptart into his mouth as he climbed over the back of the couch to follow Tony into the kitchen. “JARVIS said to take the turkey out and put it in the sink.”

“Thank you.” He started the coffee maker, and watched as Peter climbed up onto his chair. “How did you sleep?”

“Good.”

Tony hadn’t been too surprised when Peter had fallen asleep during the movie. It had been a long, emotional, day, after all, and that would wear on anyone. Especially a little boy. By the time the movie was over – and Tony hadn’t left Peter dozing on the sofa to do other things – Peter was snoring, softly, and drooling, just a little. He hadn’t stirred when the billionaire picked him up and carried him into his room to put him to bed, either.

“Is your bed comfortable?” he asked, poking a finger into the turkey to test how thawed it was. “Or do we need to get a new one for you?”

“It’s great.”

“Good.” He frowned. “JARVIS? How do we thaw this thing out, faster?”

_“Run hot water over it,”_ came the suggestion.

Tony did as he was told, and dried his hands off.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“Cereal.”

“That’s it?”

“With a banana chopped up in it?”

“Alright.” Cereal wasn't something Tony ate very often, but they’d bought a few different kinds at the store the night before, and he pulled the healthiest of the options down. Fruit Loops wouldn’t taste very good with a banana in them, after all. “Rhodey is coming around ten,” he told the boy as he poured the cereal into a bowl and brought the milk out. “Everyone else will come around noon.”

“Okay.”

Tony watched the boy eat while he made his way through his first cup of coffee. He felt pretty good, really. After he’d put Peter to bed, he’d decided to call it a night, as well, and because of that, he’d had more sleep than usual. He brought up a display that showed the local news, mostly out of habit, and realized something.

“Did you want to go to the big parade, today?” he asked Peter. “I could get us a great view.”

“No. Thanks.” Peter hesitated. “Unless _you_ want to?”

“If I’m there it will be even more of a spectacle. I feel like being low-key, today, and just spending time with people I like.”

Peter smiled at the thought that he was included in that group.

They talked about what they were going to have to get finished before their company arrived, but the big one was the turkey. Had they done it right, the bird would have been thawing for a few days, now, and would have been ready for baking. As it was, they were in danger of having ham, or hamburger helper, and ending up eating the thing by themselves sometime later in the week.

Luckily, JARVIS’ suggestion seemed to be better than anything that Tony could come up with, and by the time Peter was finished with his breakfast and Tony had started another cup of coffee, the things was thawed enough to put in the disposable baking pan that Tony had bought the day before. Then, following the direction of the AI – and watching a demonstration on the display that came down from the ceiling – Tony managed to pull the little baggy of innards out and was waving it in front of Peter, who giggled and pretended to throw up.

“What do we do with it, JARVIS?” Tony asked.

“Make gravy.”

“Ugh.”

They’d bought canned gravy, so that wasn't going to happen.

Tony put the turkey in the oven, and then set the timer – although JARVIS could watch it, too – and then turned to Peter.

“I’m going to go take a shower and get changed.”

“Okay.”

He smiled, his expression softening as he looked at Peter.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Peter. It’s going to make today great.”

That made Peter smile.

“I am, too, Tony.”

“Good. Need anything?”

“No.”

He was going to go change, too – although he didn’t think he needed a _bath_.

Peter watched as Tony downed his coffee and then vanished into his bedroom. The little boy looked around the kitchen, and then hopped off his chair and went into his room to change. He returned a few minutes later dressed in jeans and a Captain America t-shirt, and went back to the sofa, where he bundled himself, once more, into the blanket and turned the TV back on.

The parade wasn't on, yet, but they were showing all of the preparations and the giant balloons, and Peter thought that that was pretty interesting, too.

><><><><>

He wasn't so caught up in the program that he didn’t hear Tony coming out of his bedroom sometime later. Peter smiled when he felt the grown up come up behind him, lean over the sofa and hug him.

“What have you learned, so far?” Tony asked him, brushing his still damp hair against Peter’s cheek, making the boy squirm.

“There’s an _Ironman_ balloon. Did you know that?”

Tony was pleased at just how impressed Peter looked. Yeah, he was eight, but it was always fun to see anyone looking at you with that kind of wonder.

“I heard rumors. Is it a good one?”

“It’s bigger than the Snoopy one.”

“Wow. I made the big time, then. No Captain America one?”

“No. I didn’t see one, yet.”

“Good.”

He couldn’t help but feel smug and didn’t bother to hide it in his tone. Tony let the boy go and walked around to join him on the sofa, purposefully pinning him under the blanket by sitting on the edge, and then squishing him, a little, against the cushioned arm of the couch. Peter giggled at the treatment, and shifted so that he was leaning against Tony, again, and the two settled in to watch the craziness that was the thanksgiving parade in the city.


	31. 31

_“Colonel Rhodes is at the door.”_

“Let him in.”

Tony was way too comfortable to be bothered to get up to open the door, and luckily, with JARVIS running the household, he didn’t _have_ to. The billionaire was sitting on the end of the sofa, leaning against the cushiony armrest, and Peter – still wrapped in a cocoon of a blanket – was sprawled bonelessly on him, draped over his lap in a position that would have had Stark going to the chiropractor, but seemed perfectly comfortable to the little boy.

Both looked up when Rhodey walked in, carrying a couple of bags. The other man smiled at the domestic scene in front of him.

“Hey Cheese Pizza,” he greeted Peter. “I heard you were living here, now. How’s it going?”

Peter’s smile was answer enough, but the boy twisted so he was sitting up, his hands on the back of the couch and looking at Rhodes.

“I have my _own_ room.”

“Yeah? Did Tony buy you a puppy, yet?”

Rhodes smirked at the look of horror on his friend’s face, but luckily, Peter shook his head.

“I don’t want a puppy. He bought me _poptarts_ , though – _and_ we got a toaster.”

“Oooo,” Rhodes forced himself to sound impressed. “That’s important.”

“Yeah. And I have my own chair to sit in – and a lot of toys. And _Legos_.”

Rhodes looked almost as cheerful as Peter did.

“That’s great, buddy. I’m glad he’s taking good care of you.”

Peter nodded, and stood up, allowing the blanket to fall as he scrambled over the back of the couch to join Rhodes.

“We watched a movie, last night.”

“What did you have for dinner?”

“McDonald’s.”

The other man glanced over at Stark.

“I thought you made a resolution to start _cooking_ …?”

“It was late by the time we were finished shopping for thanksgiving dinner,” Tony told him. “But starting _today_ , we’re eating a little healthier.”

“Good.”

“What did you bring?” Peter asked, curiously.

“I was told to bring salad stuff. No one said what _kind_ , so I brought lettuce and all of that, but I brought potato salad, and macaroni salad, and _fruit_ salad.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“We’re not going to be able to eat all of that.”

“Sure we are. Peter will help, right?”

The boy nodded, following Rhodes into the kitchen, and climbing up on his chair, and then onto the island to get a better view as Rhodey went to the fridge.

“Yeah. I like all of those.”

“See?”

The look Rhodes gave Stark was smug, and Tony rolled his eyes, but frowned when Peter reached for the container of potato salad, and then accidentally allowed it to slip out of his hands.

“Hey, be-“

Before he could even finish the sentence, the potato salad went over the edge of the island, and Peter lunged for it, and vanished over the side of the island, as well.

“ _Peter_!”

Rhodey reached for the boy, but his hands were full, and there was a cry of surprise and a breathless gasp. _Rhodes_ made a shocked noise, too, and stared, and Tony rushed up to the other side of the island, visions of blood, stitches and head wounds and a trip to the ER already racing through his mind in the seconds it took him to get there. Then he stared, too.

“What the _hell_?”

“Tony! Help!”

Peter was frozen. He wasn't on the kitchen floor, though, and he wasn't on the island. For all intents and purposes, the little boy seemed to be stuck to the side of the island, suspended halfway between the floor and the top.

“How-“

“Grab him, Rhodey,” Tony said, reaching around his friend to hold Peter in place and keep him from falling – although he wasn't even supporting him, he knew immediately.

Rhodes reached for Peter, too, and the two men pulled the scared boy from the side of the island and up righted him, setting him on the island – ironically enough – to make sure he hadn’t hurt himself.

“How did you do that?” Rhodes asked, even as Tony was running careful fingers over Peter’s curls, looking for blood.

Peter’s face was red from being upside down, and his expression was scared, but he didn’t seem to be injured.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.” Peter’s eyes were wide. “I didn’t fall. I mean, I _did_ , but I didn’t land.”

“I saw…” Tony felt a surge of relief. “Don’t ever do that again. You scared the liver out of me.”

“You stuck to the side,” Rhodey said, still amazed. He took Peter’s hand, looking at his fingers and running his own along it. “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Peter answered. He looked at the two men. “It just _happened_.”

“You’re not hurt?” Tony repeated.

“No. I don’t think so.” He looked down at himself. “Am I _bleeding_?”

“No.” Thank God. “JARVIS? How did Peter keep from hitting the floor?”

_“Unknown.”_

“Do you have video?”

_“Not with the proper angle. Perhaps an experiment might be in order.”_

Tony scowled.

“We’re not going to try that, again.”

There was a slight hesitation.

_“I meant a_ controlled _experiment,”_ the AI clarified. “ _Hold him against the wall and see if he sticks.”_

“That’s _insane_ ,” Stark muttered, even as Rhodes picked Peter up and walked over to one of the bare kitchen walls. “He’s not going to just stick to-“

Rhodes held Peter against the wall, and then carefully let him go, holding his hands out – just in case. The precaution wasn't necessary, though, because Peter stayed where he was, looking around in shock, and a little fear.

“Get me down… _please_!”

“Easy, Cheese Pizza,” Rhodey said, plucking him from the wall and then holding him close, since he could feel Peter trembling. “I’ve got you.” He looked at Tony with an awed expression. “Did _you_ know your guy here could stick to walls?”

Tony walked over and reached for Peter, taking the boy from his friend, and hugging him close as he shuddered in reaction. People didn’t just stick to walls. Everyone knew that.

“No.” From the looks of it, though, _Peter_ hadn’t known, either. “You’re okay, buddy. I’ve got you.”

“I’m _sorry_.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Tony assured him. “Did you know you could do that?”

“No.” Peter buried his face into Tony’s neck. “I don’t know what happened.”

“You stuck to the wall,” Rhodes told him, rubbing his back, reassuringly. “Like a fly, or a spider, or something. It was _amazing_.”

“Yeah, it was…” Tony said. He ran his fingers through Peter’s curls. “Hey? You’re okay. No blood? No pieces from the inside trying to come out?”

“No. I’m not hurt.”

“Then it’s alright.”

He knew about Peter’s strength, and knew that he healed quickly, but this was something much more incredible, and technically, he wasn't supposed to know about the others. He tried to think of a way to address it that would get Peter to talk about it and not give away that Tony had been snooping into the security cameras. Before he could, however, Rhodes spoke up.

“How did you do that?” he asked the boy. “You’re not an _alien_ , are you?”

Peter shook his head, pulling his face away from Tony’s neck to look at the other man.

“No. I mean, I don’t _think_ so.” He hesitated, turning to look into Tony’s worried and wondered gaze. “I… it might be because of the thing that happened…”

_Yes_. Stark felt a surge of relief. If Peter was willing to mention it, then maybe he was ready to share. And that meant that maybe they’d reconciled his stupid tirade back at the compound when he’d found out that Peter knew JARVIS.

“What thing?” he asked, forcing his expression to be calm, and curious.

“It was in a lab,” Peter said. “On a field trip. It’s kind of a long story – _sort of_.”

“Let’s get comfortable, then,” Rhodes told them, already heading for the sofa.

Tony looked at Peter.

“Okay?”

Meaning, was he ready to tell him?

The boy nodded.

“Yeah.”


	32. 32

“So, what do you _think_ it was?” Rhodes asked a short time later.

Both men were staring at the boy, who was sitting in Tony’s lap to keep him from being too overwhelmed. Strong, reassuring arms were wrapped around his belly from behind, but not so strong that he couldn’t turn to look at the man as he told them about the weird thing that had happened to him, and had watched their expressions for any indication that they didn’t believe him.

“A bug.” Peter shrugged. “It had to be something _little_. I didn’t see anything, and I would have noticed a dog, or a rat, or a monkey…”

“True,” Tony agreed. “Besides, dogs and monkeys don’t stick to walls.”

“Yeah.”

“What else can you do?” Rhodes asked, curiously. His eyes widened, excitedly. “Can you _fly_?”

Peter shook his head.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Then it wasn't a fly that got you,” the man pointed out. He smiled. “We could put you in a dark room and turn on the light. See if you scurry away like a _cockroach_.”

That made the little boy smile for the first time since he’d fallen off the island.

“I don’t mind the lights coming on. And I see in the dark pretty well…” he added.

“This is what you were trying to get my help with?” Stark asked, gently. “Before, I mean?”

“Yes. I didn’t know I could do the wall thing, but I knew I was strong, and I get weird feelings, sometimes. I thought…” he shrugged. “I thought that since _you’re_ a superhero, you would know what I should do. What do you think?”

“Huh.” Tony brushed Peter’s bangs back with his hand. “I think you have a lot on your plate for someone so young. Do these abilities _hurt_ you?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll see what happens. You told Natasha and the others?”

“Clint and Sam,” Peter confirmed. “I _wanted_ to tell you,” he added. “But you were so angry… I didn’t-“

“That’s on _me_ ,” Tony told him. “And I _really_ am sorry. I was terrible to you, and you didn’t deserve it.” Peter nodded, and put his cheek back on Tony’s shoulder, ready to be cuddled and comforted. Stark complied, of course, and he smiled when he looked at Rhodey. “I can’t _wait_ to show the others…”

The other man nodded, patting Peter’s back but looking just as smug.

“Definitely.” He looked at his watch. “The game’s starting. Tell me we still get to watch it?”

“Peter?” Tony asked. “You good with that?”

“Yeah.”

He closed his eyes and just clung to Tony.

><><><><><><>

_“Visitors at the door.”_

Tony turned his head, ready to tell JARVIS to let them in, but Peter was excited to see Natasha and the others, and the boy sprang from the sofa, quickly, bouncing himself from the position he’d had between Rhodes and Tony and jumping over the back of the sofa.

“Careful…” Tony cautioned.

Peter landed, easily, though and they heard the electronic lock click to allow entrance just as the boy reached the door. It opened, revealing Romanoff, first, but she was followed by Sam, Steve, and a dark-skinned man that Peter didn’t know. The three men were loaded down with bags and packages, but Natasha’s hands were free, and she smiled when she saw the boy and swept him up into her arms with an excited noise.

“There’s my favorite guy!”

Peter hugged her, close.

“Hi, Natasha.” He looked at the others, his smile huge and his eyes bright with happiness. “Hi Steve, hi Sam.” He hesitated when the other man looked at him. “Um… hi…?”

Natasha hugged him, well aware that her companion could look a little intimidating. To _anyone_ , really, and not just a little boy.

“This is my friend, _Nick_.,” Natasha told him. “Nick, this is _Peter_.”

Fury smiled, hands too full to offer one to the child.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Peter. It’s good to finally meet you. Stark? Come get some of these things before I drop them.”

Tony and Rhodey had both moved to greet the newcomers – although not as quickly as _Peter_ had – and Tony reached for one of the bags that Fury held out to him. Then he moved out of the way so that Romanoff and the others could come in and close the door behind them. Natasha wasn't in any hurry to give up her excited burden, though, and the boy beamed at her.

“I’m staying here,” he told her. “Did you _know_?”

“I _did_ ,” she confirmed. “Which is why one of those bags that Steve is carrying has a present for you.”

His eyes widened.

“You got me a present?”

“Yup.”

“Wow.”

The bags were all carried to the island, and Peter hugged her, again, and then wriggled to get down. He climbed up his special chair and then moved to sit on the island, itself, to get a better look at all the things that they’d brought. Only to have Rhodey scoop him up.

“No way, Cheese Pizza,” the man admonished, lightly. “We’re not doing _that_ , again.”

Peter giggled, but accepted the reprimand and settled into his chair, instead, watching as the bags were unloaded.

The others had been in charge of bringing all of the sides; there was a tray of cheese and crackers and meats. There was a fruit tray, and another with veggies and ranch dressing to dip them in. Peter reached for a carrot, even as Nick started unloading the desserts. Two pies; one pumpkin, and one apple, brownies, a small cake with a lot of icing. There was a can of cranberry sauce, and a few containers of whipped cream. The boy watched, expectantly, as Steve unloaded _his_ bag, especially, and Rogers smiled over at him as he pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box and handed it to Peter.

“Happy housewarming,” he told him. “And by the way, I love your shirt.”

Peter beamed, and ripped open the package.

“Wow!”

It was Legos. And yes, his new room was filled with a whole box of Legos, but the Legos that they had brought him were extra special. They were Avengers themed, with a little Ironman, a Hulk, a Captain America, Falcon, War Machine, a Hawkeye, and a Black Widow. There was also a Quinjet to put them all in.

“Where did you find those?” Tony asked, curiously, taking the box from Peter to get a better look.

“I have my sources,” Natasha told him, mysteriously.

“ _Amazon_ ,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes, and dodging when the assassin pretended to take a swipe at him.

The boy was looking speculatively at Fury.

“Are _you_ an Avenger?”

Nick shook his head, pulling off the jacket that he was wearing and handing it to Stark, who rolled his eyes and took everyone else’s coats, too.

“I’m with _SHIELD_ ,” Fury told the child. “You know what that is?”

“Yeah.”

“Nick came up with the _idea_ for the Avengers, though,” Sam said. “He’s the reason they exist.”

“Wow.”

“I hear _you_ have some pretty impressive abilities, too,” Fury told Peter.

“Oh, you haven’t heard _all_ of it, though,” Rhodes told him – and the others. “We just discovered a new one, this morning.”

Natasha wasn't the only one to look interested.

“Yeah?”

Peter hesitated, looking at Tony, who was returning from putting coats away. Stark understood the uncertainty, and he picked Peter up from behind.

“You mind showing them?”

“No. I don’t know if I can do it, though…”

“We’ll try. If nothing happens, then it was still pretty amazing.”

“What can he do?” Sam asked, curiously. “Oh! Wait. Tell me he can shoot laser beams from his eyes. Is that it?”

Peter giggled.

“No.”

“Can you read my mind?” Natasha asked, following as Tony carried Peter out into the living room where there was more space – and a bigger, more open, wall. “What am I thinking?”

“You’re trying to decide how to get the biggest slice of pumpkin pie,” Steve answered. “But no one needs a super ability to know _that_.”

She shook her head.

“You know what we need?” she asked. “More _women_ in this room. Tony? Where’s Pepper?”

Stark snorted.

“She’s out of town visiting a sick relative and spending time with family – for a change. I invited her, but she said she’d raincheck and maybe come for Christmas, instead.”

Natasha started to say something, but then Stark did something unexpected and turned Peter in his arms and pressed the little boy up against the wall. Natasha frowned, and reached for the boy when Tony suddenly released his grip on him. Rather than falling, though, Peter stayed right where he’d been left, his little hands pressed flat against the surface of the wall.

Stark smirked at the assassin, and made a ‘ta-da’ motion with his hands. Rhodes looked smug, but the others stared – including Nick Fury, who had seen the video from the boy’s impressive lifting in the gym weeks before, but hadn’t seen anything like what he was looking at, now.

“How did you _do_ that?” Steve asked. “Is it tech?”

“None that I know of,” Tony said, keeping his hands out – just in case Peter pulled his hand loose or something, and lost his grip and fell. “ _He_ didn’t even know he could do it until this morning when he fell off the island.”

“Are you kidding me?” Natasha asked, stepping up and putting one hand under Peter’s rear – just in case – while she moved one of his hands free of the wall with the other. The boy just smiled at her, looking happy and as normal as ever. Certainly not like a little kid sticking to the wall. “How is that possible?”

“How can he lift a hundred pounds above his head?” Tony asked. “Probably whatever bit him is something that can do it, naturally. Obviously, we don’t know anything about it – aside from its effects on Peter.”

“Does that _hurt_?” Natasha asked. “Holding yourself there?”

Peter shook his head.

“I can’t move, though,” he admitted. He pulled his hand away from the wall, and then put it back. “I’m stuck.”

“Not _permanently_ , though,” Tony assured them all, taking hold of Peter and pulling him away from the wall. He tousled his hair and then set him on the floor, where he took several steps backward to prove that he wasn't stuck to the floor, and then ran into Natasha’s arms, feeling a surge of exuberance. “He’s fine.”

“I’m _sticky_!” Peter said, cheerfully, basking in the awed looks that they were giving him. “Pretty neat, huh?”

“It’s _amazing_ ,” she agreed, hugging him. “No experimenting with it, though, unless someone is around. I don’t want you taking a tumble.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” She set him down. “Why don’t you show me your new room?”

Peter nodded, excitedly, his attention easily distracted by the thought of being able to show her something so much more amazing than being able to stick to the wall.

“It’s great!”

Sam followed the two as they stopped in the kitchen long enough to pick up the new Avenger Legos that had been brought, and then they vanished into the bedroom. Fury shook his head, watching until the door closed.

“That’s incredible.”


	33. 33

“That’s one word for it,” Tony agreed.

“It’s not even the most impressive thing about him, though, Nick,” Rhodes said. “He’s smart. Like _Tony_ , smart.” He grinned. “That kid’s going to change the world, some day.”

“If he gets the support that he needs,” Steve said. “And the emotional love and care.”

He looked a little concerned, which made Tony frown.

“He’s _fine_ , Steve. Don’t be such a nervous Nellie.”

“Power like that in such a little kid?” Fury asked, also looking a little worried. “There are people out there who’d love to get their hands on him, I imagine, and raise him to be their own super soldier…”

Steve nodded.

“What kind of protection does he have?”

“He has _me_ ,” Tony pointed out.

“And when he’s at _school_?”

“He’s _eight_ , guys. He doesn’t have protection at school.”

“That needs to _change_ ,” Fury said.

“It’ll draw more attention to him if he suddenly has a bodyguard,” Rhodes said.

“Not really,” Steve replied. “Not once word gets out that he’s living with Tony. Rich kids have bodyguards all the time, right?”

“He’s not a rich kid, though.”

“If someone grabbed him, Tony would pay to get him back,” Fury pointed out – which made Stark nod his agreement, and look worried, too. “That puts him in danger. And would warrant a guard, of some sort.”

“I didn’t think about that, but you’re right.”

Of course, that was something Fury would consider, immediately. Tony had never cared about anything – or _anyone_ – enough to worry about losing them. Now he was finding himself in that unenviable position.

“I assume that no one really knows about him, yet,” Nick added. “So you’re probably in the clear for now. But when school starts, he needs a shadow - and not just because of his abilities.”

“I’ll find a firm, or something.”

“We’ll get a couple of SHIELD agents.”

“For a little kid?”

Steve smiled.

“For a miniature superhero in training.”

Stark rolled his eyes, amused at that description, but he nodded.

“Low key, though. I’m not going to let him be afraid to stick his head outside.”

“Fair enough.”

><><><><>

When no one made an appearance, right away, Tony went to check on Peter and the others. He opened the door and peeked his head inside, smiling when he saw Sam and Natasha sitting at the little table – although Sam was actually on the floor – playing with Legos and the new Avenger ones in particular.

“You guys okay in here?” he asked them.

All three looked at him and nodded.

“How long until we eat?” Romanoff asked.

“JARVIS?”

_“The turkey should be safe to consume in another hour. It would be wise to peel the potatoes and start them to boiling.”_

“I’m helping _cook_ ,” Peter told the others, handing the Ironman Lego over to Sam. “You guys can play with them, though.”

“Thank you.”

The boy crossed the room and looked up at Tony, expectantly, and Stark smiled down at him. He’d promised he could help, so if he wanted to cook with him, the man wasn't going to say no, now was he?

“You remember where we put the bag of potatoes?”

“Yes.”

“Get them and put them on the island – if you can – and wash your hands. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.”

“This set up is pretty nice,” Romanoff said when Peter left, standing up after she carefully put the Ironman Lego figure back into the box. “He likes it.”

“Do you see anything that I might have missed?” Stark asked. “I told him to tell me if there’s anything else that he wants, but he probably wouldn’t.”

“It could use something on the walls,” Sam said, also standing.

“A Picasso?”

“A _poster_.”

“Oh.” He nodded, and shrugged. “Maybe we’ll look for some.”

“Steve probably has a few Captain America posters,” Natasha pointed out.

“Some _interesting_ ones,” Tony responded, drolly. “I’m not going to have Peter traumatized waking up each morning to Rogers’ face staring down at him.”

They both chuckled at that, knowing he wasn't being a jerk, just having fun in his particular way.

“Then you’d better come up with something you’ll like better,” Romanoff told him. “And his shower is too high – and what are you going to do about keeping him safe when he’s at school?”

Tony shook his head, not at all surprised that she had already considered that. She was like Nick that way.

“It’s taken care of. Talk to Nick.”

“I will.”

“Later, though,” he added, as they walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind them. “Today’s about having a good time. Not worrying.”

“You’re going to give an eight year old a knife so he can help peel potatoes,” Sam said. “There will be a little worrying involved, I’m sure.”

Tony frowned, looking toward the island where Peter was climbing his chair, holding the bag of potatoes, easily, as he did, and looking pleased with himself.

“No. He can wash them, or something. You guys can help peel them.”

“I’m the guest,” Wilson reminded him. “The guest isn’t supposed to have to cook.”

“It’s help cook, or help do the dishes. You pick.”

“Fine. I’ll cook.”

><><>><><>

The meal itself was almost anticlimactic considering how long it took to cook it. The turkey was beginning to make the apartment smell amazing and homey by the time the potatoes were boiled and ready to be mashed, and when it came out Peter and Natasha cracked open a few tubes of the roll up croissants, rolled them with enthusiasm if not a lot of skill, and stuffed them into the still warm oven.

While they baked, Nick and Rhodey set the table, which had a leaf to make it larger – although Tony had never used it. No need when you don’t have a lot of company over, after all. Tony carved some of the bird onto a couple of platters, food of every sort was served in bowls that were designed to make clean up as easy as possible, and when the rolls came out of the oven everyone sat down to eat.

There wasn't much conversation, at first, while they made their way through a considerable portion of the fare that was offered, but once the initial gorging was through, Nick took the opportunity to get to know Peter better by asking him a lot of questions.

The little boy had clearly already decided that Nick was a good guy – despite his intimidating appearance – and answered everything he answered, willingly. By the time they were all debating if there was room for dessert, Fury knew pretty much everything there was to know about Peter’s history – even though he’d already read up on him.

It was better to hear it from the source, after all, and it was a good way to bond, a little.

They decided to hold off on dessert, and despite his dire threats, earlier, Tony told the others to go relax, while he cleared the table and handled the dishes. They _didn’t_ , of course – which he’d silently counted on. He and Peter took care of loading the dishwasher, but the others cleared the table, putting leftovers in clear plastic containers and into the fridge for later, while the pies and other desserts were set on the island for later, when they weren’t so full.

The leaf was taken out of the table, and it was wiped clean, and then they went into the living room to laze around and watch TV.

Natasha gave Tony a smug smile when Peter chose to climb into her lap once she’d settled, and the billionaire rolled his eyes, amused. He didn’t mind, though. Peter wouldn’t get to see the Avengers every day, after all, so he should take the chance and get his time with them when he could.

They were watching the Christmas Story, and about halfway in, Romanoff brushed her fingers through Peter’s curls, not surprised that the boy was almost asleep. A full belly and a warm embrace? Who could resist?

“When are you going to get your Christmas tree?” She asked Tony.

Peter opened his eyes, proving that he wasn't completely asleep, yet, and he looked over at Stark, his expression uncertain, but definitely hopeful.

“Tradition says the day after Thanksgiving, right?” Tony asked them, smiling at the boy. “However, that is also traditionally an insane day to go out, because of all the people shopping. We could give it a go on Saturday, though, if you’re interested?”

“ _Really_?”

“Gotta have a tree,” Sam said. “Otherwise where will you put all your presents?”

“I don’t need any presents,” Peter told him. “I have a lot of things, already, now. I can only fit so much in my backpack.”

The boy looked excited, though, about doing something so traditional, and he didn’t notice that those of them who understand the reference to carrying around everything that mattered to him in that single backpack were a little teary-eyed at the reminder.

“We’ll go looking Saturday,” Tony promised.

“A real one? Or one from a box?”

“Do you have a preference?”

Peter shook his head.

“Whatever you want.” He hesitated, though. “I like the lights that blink, though.”

“Then we’ll have to look for some of those, too.”

Peter smiled, but with Natasha’s arms around him, he couldn’t hug himself.

“Wow.”

Nick smiled.

“When you take him to see Santa, make sure you get a picture with you in it, too, Tony,” the director of SHIELD ordered. “I’ll put it up on my wall.”

“Santa isn’t _real_ ,” Peter said.

Nick’s single eye widened.

“What? Who told you that?”

“My aunt May.”

“She’s wrong,” Nick replied. “I met the guy, once.”

“You _did_?” Peter asked. “Not the fake ones who pretend to be him on the corners and in the mall, but the real one?”

“I _did_. We were flying over the North Pole one winter, and a dozen of us saw him out training those reindeer of his, teaching the up and comers how to fly in a line.” He smirked. “You should have seen them; they were all over the place and Santa almost fell out of that sleigh a dozen times, just while we were watching.”

“Really?”

“Yup. He must be magical, too, because we were using our mirror technology to hide from him, but he still saw us. He invited us to his little cottage to have hot chocolate and cookies.”

“Wow.”

Peter couldn’t help but believe what he was being told, despite everything telling him otherwise. Nick was so gruff, and so certain. He couldn’t be wrong, could he?

“The one you visit won’t be the _real_ Santa,” Natasha added. “He can’t be hanging out in the mall all day asking kids what they want. Those are the ones you’ve seen, but they all work for the real Santa, helping him get his list together.”

“Are you sure?”

“Did you ever get taken to see one?”

“My mom and dad took me, once.”

“What did you ask for?”

“A bike.”

“Did you get a bike?”

It was a risk, but the way the boy’s eyes lit up the few times he’d mentioned his parents told them all that they had been good people who had loved him very much. Surely they would have wanted him happy, and would have done what they could to perpetuate the myth that was Santa. Even for a boy who was so much smarter than the norm.

Peter’s eyes widened, and he nodded.

“Yes.”

“There you go, then. Sometimes mistakes happen and the word doesn’t get through, but it’s usually because of down power lines, or really bad snowstorms.”

“I didn’t think of that…” Peter admitted.

“Well,” Natasha said, matter of fact, hugging him. “Now you know. So you should probably start thinking about what you might want.”

Peter nodded, again.

“Yeah…”

He shifted, tucking his head back against her neck, and Romanoff looked over at Tony, who had a slight smile on his face.

Smooth.

She winked at him, and ran her fingers through those fine curls, again, ready to go back to watching the movie, and the others fell silent, too. All of them were full, and feeling lazy, and Steve’s eyes were the first to close – although Peter was right behind him. By the time the protagonist of the movie was unwrapping his Christmas presents under his parents’ watchful eyes, all of them but Nick and Tony had dozed off.

Which was fine.

That was the whole point of having comfortable furniture, after all.


	34. 34

“I had fun, today…”

Tony smiled at the little boy that he’d just put to bed, tucking the blankets around him, and making sure he was warm.

“Yeah? Good. I had fun, too.”

They’d woken from their naps and had pie and other desserts while watching a re cap of the parade – although everyone but Peter rolled their eyes at the smirk on the billionaire’s face when the Ironman balloon was showcased and the list of Tony Stark’s achievements were touted by the announcers who was emceeing the parade.

Then the others had started packing up to get going, since they had a long drive back to the compound, and while they were told to take the leftovers, there were still plenty left in the fridge for Peter and Tony to have turkey sandwiches for dinner. They ate and then cleaned up what little mess they made, before heading into Peter’s room and continuing the ongoing adventures of the little Lego Avengers, which were clearly a successful gift.

That particular thought was proven when Peter put all the other Legos back into their big box, but tucked the little case of individuals into his backpack. Tony watched, silently, wanting to reassure the little boy that it wasn't necessary, but since he’d just been moved into Tony’s place – having made it the third time he’d been moved from foster home to foster home in five months – he didn’t think simply telling Peter would be enough.

“What are we going to do, tomorrow?” Peter asked, his eyes sleepy, but excited.

“You’re going to get a _bath_ ,” Stark told him, tousling his hair. “You can do that yourself, right?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

“Your bathtub has jets on it if you want bubbles.”

The boy had noticed the jets, but hadn’t thought of a bubble bath. He smiled at that.

“Okay.”

“Then, I thought we might go for a drive. Sam told me there’s a place that lets you go pick out and cut down your own Christmas tree. Even if we don’t find the perfect tree for us, we can at least get some fresh air. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

“Good.” Tony hesitated, and then smiled. “Get some sleep. I don’t want you grumpy, tomorrow.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Night, buddy.”

><><><><><>

_“Peter needs your assistance.”_

Tony tossed the blankets aside, feet already searching for his slippers.

“Is he alright?” he asked, glancing at the time. It was 3am. “Did he have a bad dream?”

There was slight hesitation.

_“No. He’s in his bathroom.”_

Frowning, Stark headed for the boy’s bedroom, wondering if they’d allowed him too much dessert the evening before and it was taking its toll. Maybe he was sick? The bed was empty but like JARVIS had said, the light was on in the bathroom. Tony hesitated, wondering just how much privacy a person was supposed to give an eight-year old. He’d already done enough research to know that he didn’t need to be bathed, and should be able to dress himself and brush his teeth as long as he was reminded.

He tapped on the door, lightly, hearing the sound of watery jets coming from the other side.

“Peter…?”

“Tony… _help_ …”

Opening the door, the billionaire could help that he stopped in mid-stride. His eyes widened, and then he snorted before he could stop himself.

“What are you _doing_?”

The little boy was naked, and soaked, and stuck to the wall of the shower. He looked over his shoulder, eyes a mixture of relieved and chagrined. Bubbles were sliding down his back.

“I can’t get down.”

Stark grabbed a towel and used it to get a grip on the slick little body, and then easily plucked him off the wall. Wrapping it around Peter, he held him for a moment, making sure that he wasn't scared, like he’d been the day before on the island.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” He was shivering, now, but that was from being cold. “Sorry.”

“What were you doing?”

“I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Yeah…?”

“So I thought I’d take my bath…”

“I can see that.”

“And then I was looking up at the shower while the water was filling, and I wondered if whatever it is that lets me stick to the wall would let me stick to a wet, _slippery_ wall.”

“So you tried it.”

“Yeah.” He trembled. “But then I couldn’t get down.”

“It probably takes a bit of practice,” Stark pointed out. “We’ll figure it out. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“But not _tonight_. You're not injured?”

“No.”

“Finish your bath, then. Do you want the shower on?”

“No. Can I still do bubbles?”

“Will you stay off the wall if I say yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then all the bubbles that you want.”

Peter smiled.

“Thanks for rescuing me.”

“I wish I had a video…” He hugged the boy, and set him on his feet, towel and all. “No one would ever believe me.”

“I’m glad you _don’t_.”

“JARVIS?” Tony said, heading for the door – after making sure there was another towel on the rack. “Keep an eye on him and call me if he needs me.”

_“Yes, sir.”_

Still smiling, Stark headed for the kitchen. He wasn't going to go back to bed. Just in case Peter needed anything.

><><><><>

Peter didn’t go back to sleep after he was finished with the bath. He was too wound up after spending over an hour playing with the jets and the bubble liquid. He’d pour some into the water, and turn on the jets in the tub, watching in amazement and pure joy as the tub would fill with bubbles. Then he’d stick his face into them, closing his eyes tightly to avoid getting the soap in them.

That lesson he’d learned the first time.

When he’d finally decided to get out of the bath, he wasn't sleepy, so he dried off, dressed in the same pajamas that he’d discarded, earlier, and went out to the living room, thinking that he might get a snack and start in on the schoolwork that he hadn’t even looked at, yet.

Living with Tony was way too much of a distraction, so far.

He was surprised to find the man sitting at the island, two displays in front of him and his attention so completely on what he was doing that he didn’t look up as Peter walked over.

“What are you working on?” Peter asked, curiously, climbing up his special chair to get a look. “Or is it _secret_?”

Tony shook his head. The only reason he hadn’t had a heart attack when Peter snuck up on him – and he knew he hadn’t done it on purpose, but the boy was really quiet on his feet – was that JARVIS had warned him Peter was done with his bath,

“It isn’t a secret – for you,” he added. “But don’t tell anyone else, okay? I like to keep things close to my chest until I’m ready to show the world the newest development.”

“Okay.”

Peter looked interested, of course.

“Do you know what nanotech is?”

“Not too much. Little robots?” he guessed. Then his eyes lit up. “You’re making _little robots_?”

Tony smiled.

“Not exactly. They’re little robots, sort of, but if I figure it out, they’ll make me a new kind of suit. One that I can carry with me all the time, and activate with a touch.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, wow,” Stark agreed. “But it’s a ways off, yet, even for me.” He turned off the displays, trusting JARVIS to save what they’d been working on. “You should go back to sleep.”

“ _You_ aren’t.”

“I’m _older_ than you. I don’t need so much sleep.” He reached out and tapped the boy’s nose. “You, on the other hand, should be getting ten hours a night. I looked it up.”

“I can’t sleep that much.”

“I _know_.” Which didn’t mean that they were going to go out and do anything active. Not until much later. “Are you hungry? Breakfast is still a while off, but we have plenty of leftovers to snack on.”

Proof being that he had a small plate of untouched crackers near at hand.

“I was going to work on my schoolwork.”

“Can I help?”

The boy’s smile was answer enough, really, but he nodded.

“I’ll go get it.”

Tony watched him jump from his chair and hurry to his room, and then turned to the fridge to find something to feed them both. Nothing too heavy, but maybe a light snack and a little quiet downtime would make Peter sleepy, again. The 2am bath definitely didn’t do the trick, so they’d have to make a new rule to keep that from happening, again. He wanted to get Peter on a better sleeping schedule – although he knew that he wasn't the best example of that.

Well, maybe he’d work on getting himself on a better schedule, too., he thought as he carried their snack into the living room just in time to meet Peter who was coming out of his room, books in hand and looking expectant.

They could work on that together, too.


	35. 35

“We’re not really going to get a Christmas tree, are we?”

Tony shrugged, buckling his seatbelt.

“We _might_. If we find one that we like.”

“It won’t fit in your car.”

“We’ll figure it out. For now, we’re just going to go for a drive and check the place out.” He hadn’t missed the way Peter enjoyed every trip that they’d taken out of the city, so far, and they might as well scope out a tree while they were getting the fresh air. “If we find the right tree, then we’ll go from there.”

“Okay.”

They had nothing but time that day, really.

Peter’s homework hadn’t taken long for the boy to do – especially with Tony feeding him answers. Recognizing that he wasn't sleepy, really, and already catching on that the little guy could watch movies endlessly, rather than try to send him back to bed, Tony had simply brought out a blanket from his bed, had JARVIS turn off all the lights, and then turned on a Disney cartoon while the two of them lounged on the sofa and watched it.

The child fell asleep rather quickly, leaning up against Tony, who dozed off after a while, as well. When they’d next woken, the sun was well up in the sky, the streets were filled with Black Friday shoppers, and rather than bother to go out into that mess, they’d eaten a leisurely breakfast and discussed the merits of going to buy the decorations for the tree before they even found one, or if they should wait to make sure they had the right tree before buying whatever was going to go on it.

In the end, they (mainly _Tony_ ) decided that they didn’t want to go to any store that day if they could avoid it. Time enough the next day, after all, when Tony had already brought up the idea of going to see Santa at the mall. Peter had been uncertain, now that he was away from Nick’s certainty, but he’d looked so hopeful, almost desperate to believe that Santa really _was_ waiting to hear what he told the guy in the mall that he wanted for Christmas, that Tony had taken the decision away from him. He pointed out that he needed to go to the mall, anyway, so they might as well stop in and see what they could see.

So they drove out of the city and headed for the place that Tony had been told about. Peter watched the scenery with interest, and grinned, excitedly, when the first fat snowflakes hit the windshield.

“It’s starting to snow!”

Tony rolled his eyes, not bothering to point out that his sportscar wasn't designed to traverse back wood roads with accumulating snowfall. It wasn't a big deal, so far, since it wasn't too bad.

“Good thing we brought winter clothes, then, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Peter wrapped his arms around himself, watching as the snow fell against the windshield as they drove, and the trees were getting bigger and the houses fewer and further apart from each other.

It was almost an hour before they pulled into a long driveway, and now, suddenly, the trees were all uniform shaped and close to the same size. A perfect Christmas tree farm. They weren’t the only ones to park their car in the large gravel parking area, but there were only a few people in sight; small groups of potential customers intently checking out all the available trees, and none of them paid any attention as Tony got out of the car, grabbing his coat and putting it on before he opened Peter’s door and helped him into his heavy coat, too.

“Ground rules,” he said, picking the boy up and putting him on the hood of the car so he could put snow boots on his feet.

There was only a couple of inches of snow, and more falling, but he didn’t want Peter to have cold or wet toes.

“Yeah?”

“No wandering off.”

“Okay.”

“No trying to pet anything that might want to eat us.”

“Like what?”

“Bears. Wolves. Angry squirrels.”

Peter nodded.

“Okay.”

“No chopping down any trees until we both agree.”

Peter nodded, smiling, because Tony was smiling.

“I didn’t bring an axe.”

“Neither did I.” Tony pulled the coat’s hood up over Peter’s head. “Come on. Let’s go look around.”

There wasn't a lot to see. Trees. Snow. The occasional bird or squirrel that scolded them from a distance. Every now and then a person, or a couple of people, most sizing up the trees around them, obviously looking for the perfect Christmas centerpiece for their homes or businesses. Peter didn’t mind, though. Conscientious of the promise to stay close, he held Tony’s hand as they walked around, but the billionaire could tell that it was only the grip that he had on him that kept the boy close at hand. As it was, he practically vibrated his way through the trees, pointing out a few of them and laughing whenever a wild animal would cross their path.

No one bothered them, and Tony found that he was having almost as good a time as Peter was. And he didn’t even have a drink in his hand.

By the time Peter started getting cold – and Tony’s feet were numb – they hadn’t found the exact tree that they wanted, but had seen several that would do quite nicely.

“Ready to call it a day?” he asked Peter, who nodded.

His nose was cold, and he was getting hungry.

“Yeah.”

They walked back to the car, stopping to talk with the owner of the tree farm, who was awed to be talking to Tony Stark in flesh and offered him his pick of a tree. Tony had smiled his appreciation and taken a couple of pictures with the man – and his wife, who had joined them in mid-conversation – and had mentioned that they might be out the next day or two to take one, but that he’d pay them for it, fair and square.

He didn’t set a particular time, just in case the proprietors had relatives that might come and wait to ambush him for autographs and photos of their own, but as excited as Peter was at the idea of having a Christmas tree, chances were they weren’t going to wait too long. He remote started the car to make sure the heater wouldn’t take long to warm up, then he helped Peter out of his heavy boots and coat, bundled him into the front seat and then got behind the wheel to head back home.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, forced to concentrate a little more on the road, since the snow was starting to come down, heavily.

“It was great. Did _you_?”

“Yes.” He hesitated. “I wanted to discuss something with you, though, and since I have you to myself, it’s probably a good time to do it.”

Peter froze, wondering if he was going to tell him that he was going to have to move. If the state had decided that Tony’s house wasn't the best place for Peter, after all. Maybe Miss Marples had decided to get a different judge and make Peter move back in with her? He knew it couldn’t last, of course, but he’d hoped for it to be a little while, at least.

“Oh.”

Tony noticed the fear in Peter’s expression and frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh…” the little boy turned his head to look out the window. “I… I was _thinking_ , is all.”

“About what?”

“Am I going to have to move?”

“What? No. Why did you ask that?”

The boy shrugged.

“Eric said he had something that he wanted to discuss with me when he told me that I was being moved from his house… I just thought that maybe it’s the script that they have you use to tell a kid.”

Stark felt something inside him ache, horribly, at the uncertainty that Peter must feel. His life had been so turned upside down, lately, and he was so little. It was hard to remember that, because he was so intelligent and had moments of maturity that seemed to be far surpassing Tony’s own levels. But he was still young, and very uncertain, obviously. Stark wanted to give him a hug, but he couldn’t with the snow falling around them.

“It’s nothing like that, Peter,” Tony told him. “This is about your school.”

Peter turned to look at him.

“My school?”

“Yeah. I was talking to Nick and the others, yesterday, and they pointed out to me that you might be in danger…”

“What? Why?”

“Well, you know what ransom is, right?”

“Yes.”

“Natasha’s worried someone might try to kidnap you, and hold you for ransom.”

“That’s kind of dumb.” He looked a little guilty for calling anything that Natasha said dumb, but it was clear he was confused. “I’m just a foster kid,” Peter told him. “Not your real son.”

“It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t pay. I care about you… I want you to be safe.”

“Oh.”

“So starting on Monday, you’re going to have a bodyguard. Someone to watch you when you’re at school.”

_“Natasha?”_

Tony smiled.

“Probably not. Sorry. She and Nick are going to pick someone, though. He or she won’t be breathing down your neck, or anything, but it’ll be their job to watch you while you’re in school, and bring you to my office every day, after.”

“I still get to come to your office after school?”

“Of course. You still _want_ to, right?”

“Yes.” The boy sniffed, wiping his suddenly runny nose with his forearm. “Of course. I just didn’t know if… you know, if I’d get to do that.”

“Well, you do.” Tony rested a hand on Peter’s head for a moment. “You can do anything that you want to,” he added.

“Except climb the walls…”

“Except climb the walls,” Tony agreed. “At least, not in the middle of the night. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Or at school,” Tony added. “We don’t want the rest of the world to know what you can do until you’re a little older – and better at doing it.”

Reassured – at least a little – Peter relaxed and enjoyed the drive back to the city. The snow was coming down steadily, but Tony was a skilled driver and even though they were in a car that wasn't designed for traction, he had no trouble getting them home without incident. They could have stopped at a fast food place to get dinner, but Stark had meant what he said when he’d promised to try to do right by Peter and feed him healthier than he, himself, tended to eat.

They had a ton of leftovers, still, and as soon as they got back to the apartment, Tony sent Peter to change into his pajamas while he headed into the kitchen to see what new kind of turkey something they were going to have for late lunch/early dinner.

“I don’t have to go to _bed_ , right?” Peter asked, coming out of his room and dressed in a pair of Captain America pajamas. “It’s just because they’re more comfortable?”

“Yeah, it’s early, still,” Tony said. “How about turkey and noodle casserole for dinner?”

“Okay.”

He hoped Tony would want to play Legos that night. Or watch a movie. 

The boy was really happy at the thought of Tony spending time with him - even when they'd just spent the whole day, together.


	36. 36

“I don’t know…” Peter said, uncertainly, holding Tony’s hand, but holding back when the rest of the line moved forward in front of him. “Maybe I should just write a _letter_. Or send an email.”

Tony smiled, despite Peter’s nervousness.

“It’s not the _real_ Santa,” he reminded the child. “Just a guy that helps out.”

“But what if he tells the real Santa that I didn’t believe in him?” The boy peeked out from behind Tony’s leg at the huge golden and red throne and the heartily dressed man in the red suit and with a beard that glistened white under the mall lighting. “Maybe Santa will be mad and I won’t get anything.”

“He’s not like that, Peter,” Tony assured him, taking a step forward and watching as an ‘elf’ picked up the girl in front of them in the line and neatly deposited her on the fake Santa’s lap.

The man said a loud ho-ho-ho and asked her what her name was, making the child smile when she answered.

She didn’t look nervous at all. Only excited.

“But what if he _is_?”

Tony reached down and picked Peter up, holding him, but not cuddling. He just wanted him on his own level to talk to him.

“It’s going to be fine. Santa knows that you’ve had a rough time, lately. Just tell the guy what you want, let them take a couple of pictures, and then we’ll go get our Christmas tree so Santa knows where to put all your presents.”

“Think so?”

“Yup.” Tony put the boy back on his feet, and was pleased when Peter stayed in front of him, now, rather than hiding behind him. “You’ll see.”

The little girl posed with a wide smile holding the red outfit, tightly, as a photographer took several photos, and then she was lifted off Santa’s lap by an ‘elf’ on the other side of the throne, where her parents met her, paying for the photo that was printed for them and smiling at their daughter’s excitement.

The elf closest to Tony looked at Peter, expectantly, obviously reading his nervousness.

“Ready to see Santa?” he asked, kindly.

Peter looked up at Tony, who nodded, and then turned to the man in the bright green tights.

“Yes.”

The elf picked him up, easily, and settled him in Santa’s lap, and Peter looked up at the man with awe.

“What’s your name, little guy?” he was asked.

“Peter.”

“Merry Christmas, Peter. Why do you look so nervous? You’re not _afraid_ , are you?”

“A _little_ …”

“Don’t be.” Strong arms held him in place. “Do you know what you want for Christmas?”

Peter nodded, looking over at Tony, who was watching, closely.

“I think so. But I don’t think you can do it – not even the _real_ Santa.”

“You can _try_ ,” was the reply. “Tell me what it is, and we’ll give it a go.”

Peter hesitated, and then shifted in the man’s lap, getting on his knees, and Tony winced when he saw one of the boy’s bony knees end up squarely on ‘Santa’s’ groin. The man didn’t miss a beat, though, even as Peter brought his mouth up to his ear to whisper in it for a moment. Then he leaned back, looking at him, expectantly.

“Well?”

“That’s a tall order. I’ll send the message, though. Anything else?”

“No. Just that.”

The photographer held up his camera and drew Peter’s attention to him.

“Say cheese.”

Peter did, and a moment later he was being picked up by the other elf, and put back on his feet. Tony met him near the cheerful woman who was handing candy canes to each child on their way out.

“You did great,” he said, pleased. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

Peter shook his head, looking relieved.

“No. He’s nice.”

Tony paid for the cheaply framed photo, and admired the picture of the little boy, looking so cute. He smiled.

“Let’s go get a Christmas tree, buddy.”

“Okay.”

><><><><><>

It was much later the same day when JARVIS announced that Natasha and Steve were at the door. The AI opened it, just as Peter hopped down from his barstool.

They walked in the door, and Natasha smiled when she saw him, scooping him up into her arms before Steve had a chance to do the same.

“Hey, handsome,” she greeted him, hugging him close and pressing a noisy kiss against his cheek that made him giggle. “How are you?”

Peter smiled, too, and he turned in her embrace, pointing, excitedly.

“We got a Christmas tree,” he told them. “Isn't it _great_?”

Steve walked over, joined by Tony, who shrugged.

The tree was a monster. It fit exactly right in the vaulted ceilings of Tony’s apartment, and there were blinking white lights, some Christmas ornaments, candy canes hanging from every other branch, and the thing was so covered in tinsel that Steve had to look close to see the rest of it.

“That’s quite a tree…” Rogers said, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement. “It’s bigger than the one you had last year, isn’t it, Tony?”

Since he hadn’t bothered with a Christmas tree in more than a decade, Tony was forced to nod.

“That it is,” he agreed.

“I did the _tinsel_ ,” Peter told them, squirming so Natasha could know that he wanted down. He ran over to it, and pulled a candy cane from a branch that was on level with his head, and held it up. “And there are _candy canes_.”

“Wow…”

“They’re different flavors, too,” Peter told them, proudly. “Not just this kind; there’s orange, and strawberry, and root beer.”

“That’s amazing,” Natasha said. “I didn’t know candy canes came in so many types.”

Tony rolled his eyes at her amused look.

“I didn’t either.”

“There aren’t any _presents_ , though,” Steve noted, looking at Stark with an expectant expression.

“We’ve had the tree up for three hours,” the billionaire said. “Even I need a little time.”

“Well don’t take too long,” Natasha said, smiling when Steve picked Peter up only to hang him upside down in his arms, which made the boy laugh. “It looks bare.”

“It won’t for long,” Tony assured them. “He just ate, Rogers,” Tony added. “If he pukes on you, that’s your mess to clean up. You’ve been warned.”

Steve smirked, swinging Peter, slightly.

“He’s not going to throw up, are you, Peter?”

“Nope.”

His face was turning red, though, from being upside down. He didn’t mind.

Tony shook his head, amused.

“Why don’t you show Steve the new hat you got?”

“Okay.” The boy looked up at Captain America. “They had some at the Christmas tree place. It’s warm.”

“Let’s go see.”

He winked at Natasha and, still holding Peter upside down, he walked into the boy’s room and closed the door behind them.

“What’s up?” Natasha asked, stealing a root beer candy cane from the tree and then walking over to the kitchen. “You know there’s a _blizzard_ going on, right? And I’m not in the habit of being summoned.”

Tony nodded.

“I appreciate you coming. I need a little help with something, and I’m hoping you’re the one to do it.”

“Oh? Need a baby-sitter? I’m _in.”_

He smiled.

“Any time you want, but no. JARVIS?”

The kitchen display came on, and a moment later there was a video feed of what was obviously a security camera at the mall. The center of the mall, Romanoff saw where Santa was holding court. Her expression softened when she saw that Peter and Tony were in the line, with Peter hanging back, nervously.

“Aww.”

“Yeah. He’s cute. And it took some convincing to get him to say hi to Santa.” He rolled his eyes, again. “He was worried Santa would be mad because he didn’t believe in him, before, and that he wouldn’t get anything.”

“What did he ask for?” she asked, curiously, watching as Peter whispered in Santa’s ear and the man nodded. “Did you hear?”

“No. The _camera_ caught it, though – with a little amplification from JARVIS.”

They both watched as the scene rewound and this time the volume went up, a little.

_“I want my dad’s watch back,”_ was the soft whisper. _“And I never want to move, again…”_

Romanoff looked at Tony.

“Awww…”

He nodded, and then – to her surprise – he smiled.

“I’ll work on the second one, but I was hoping _you_ might be able to see what you could do about the watch.”

_“Really?”_

He frowned.

“You don’t think you’ll be able to track it down?” he asked, purposefully misunderstanding her shock. “I had JARVIS check inventory of all pawn shops – and videos of all displays. It isn’t there. You’re better at ferreting out secrets than I am.”

“Yeah. I’ll look into it.” She looked at the kitchen, and the ingredients and equipment that was strewn about the island and the counter. “Are you guys baking _cookies_?”

Tony nodded, smiling, and reached over to turn the display off when Peter’s bedroom door opened, and the boy and Steve came out. Peter was wearing a stocking cap, now, that had a poof ball on the top and was black and white stripes.

“We _are_ ,” he confirmed. “Stick around and you can be taste-testers when the first batch come out.”

“They’re chocolate chip,” Peter told her, climbing onto his chair and joining the conversation, easily. “Can you stay?”

Natasha looked at Steve, who shrugged.

“For a _while_ ,” he said, unable to resist Peter’s big brown eyes and hopeful expression. “But if it snows much more, we might end up being your guests until spring thaw.”

“That would be great!”

Tony rolled his eyes, tugging the stocking cap down over Peter’s face, blocking his eyes and nose. He smirked at Rogers, ignoring Natasha’s expression.

“You can stay for the _first_ batch. Then you’re out of here – even if I have to hire an UBER sleigh.”


	37. 37

They stayed a little longer than that, but even though Romanoff made have exaggerated a little and blizzard wasn't _really_ what the weather conditions were like outside the warm and cozy apartment, the snow _was_ coming down hard enough that Steve wanted to get on the road back to the compound before the roads started freezing and icing over. Tony packaged up a couple dozen of their fresh-baked cookies and sent them back with Natasha and Steve, who were told that they had to share them with the others.

Peter went to the door with them; he didn’t have a choice, since Natasha was carrying him. She hugged him, tightly, before finally setting him down.

“If you need anything, call me,” she told him. “JARVIS and Tony both have my number.”

“What if you’re _busy_?”

“Then leave a message.” She looked at Tony. “Are we doing Christmas _morning_ , or Christmas _Eve_?”

“Christmas _Eve_ , I think,” he said. “Then I can sleep in on Christmas.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at that and looked pointedly at the little boy.

“Good luck with that.”

A little kid on Christmas morning? Sleeping in wasn't an option. Tony just didn’t know that, yet.

Peter smiled, even though he didn’t understand the joke. It didn’t matter to him. He was excited that Christmas was coming. Not because of the gifts that most kids were looking forward to; he liked presents, of course, but as far as he was concerned, his room was filled with presents. He was excited because it meant that they’d have another fun day with all of the Avengers.

“Are we having turkey?”

Tony picked him up. Just because he wanted to hold him.

“No.” He looked at Natasha and Steve. “What’s the tradition for Christmas?”

He wanted to make things as traditional and perfect as he could for Peter’s first Christmas with him.

“Beats me,” Romanoff said with a shrug. “Ham?”

“Roast beef?” Steve suggested.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“And cookies,” Peter said, hopefully.

“Gotta have cookies,” Natasha agreed, putting on the light jacket she’d been wearing. “For Santa.”

“And _me_ ,” the boy added.

“ _And_ you,” she added, reaching out and tapping his nose, which made Tony smile, too.

Pffft. She was so mad about the little kid.

He looked at Peter, who was trying to reach Romanoff’s nose to tap her back, and he couldn’t help but be pleased at just how happy Peter looked.

“Drive safe,” Tony said to Steve as they left. He shifted his hold on the boy so he could shut the door. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.”

They’d made cookies, yes, but Tony had limited Peter to two. He had to finish his dinner, first – _and_ because he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t bouncing off the walls later from all the sugar in his system.

“What do you want for dinner? Don’t say fast food.”

“Hot dogs.”

“Huh…” Tony carried the boy to the kitchen and set him in his chair. “With chili?”

“Yeah!”

“And onions?”

“No.”

“Cheese?”

“Yeah.”

“ _Broccoli_?”

The boy made a face, but now his eyes were bright with happiness, since he realized that Tony was teasing him. Not the cruel way that some of the kids would occasionally be mean at the foster home, but in the friendly way that Peter had witnessed the billionaire act with some of the others – usually Rhodey. He shook his head, vehemently.

“No.”

“Just chili and cheese?”

“And chocolate chips?”

Now it was Tony who made the face.

“You want chocolate chips on your chili dogs?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

“That’s weird.” He shrugged, though, and reached out and tousled Peter’s hair. “But, yeah. You _can_. Not a lot, though.”

“Okay.”

The man shook his head and turned to open the fridge.

Kids were so weird. Even genius ones, apparently.

<><><>><><

When they were done eating – and Tony watched in awe as Peter ate his chilidog, chocolate chips and all – they cleaned up the dishes and wiped down the counters and the island. Then Tony sent Peter into his room to get ready for bed. It was getting late – especially for a little boy who had had a pretty long day – but when he came out of the bedroom, now dressed in pajamas and slippers on his feet, Peter was carrying a boardgame.

“Will you play with me, Tony?” he asked, hopefully.

Stark had planned on watching a movie, because he knew that would put Peter to sleep faster than anything active would, but he nodded, making a show of taking the box from him.

“ _Sorry_ , huh?”

“Do you know how to play?”

“I know how to read _instructions_ ,” Tony pointed out. “Let’s play in here, though, and not in the kitchen.”

The couch would be more comfortable for him, and Peter was young and flexible enough that he could sit on the floor on the other side of coffee table with a cushion and be fine. The boy nodded his agreement and was silent while he set up the game, and Tony read the instructions. Peter had obviously played, before.

“Want to be red?” he asked, holding the red pieces out to Tony.

“Of course.”

The game wasn't too complicated, and Tony had fun – although he was pretty ruthless when it came to trying to win. Luckily for Peter, most of it was the luck of the draw of the cards, so the boy had a better than even chance of coming out ahead when all was said and done. He managed to win the first game, but proved he was a good loser when Tony won, quickly in the next.

“I think it’s bedtime,” Stark said.

Peter looked up from the cards he was gathering up.

“I’m not _tired_ , yet.”

“It was a long day,” Tony reminded him, picking up their pieces. “And I want to talk to you. But not until you’re in bed.”

The boy’s expression grew uncertain.

“Is it bad?”

“Not at all.” He hated that uncertainty, but knew that it wasn't going to magically vanish overnight. “I want to know how you feel about living here. To see if there’s anything that _I_ should be doing. I’m new at the foster dad thing, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t answer, immediately,” Tony told him, putting the game aside and then standing and moving so he could pick Peter up. “I want you to think about it. Okay?”

“All right.”

Peter put his head on Tony’s shoulder as the man carried him into his bedroom, and did what he was told, considering his answer with all the care that he gave his usual school assignments. When Tony tucked him into his bed, he smiled, because he definitely was going to add that to the list of things that he liked.

“Comfortable?” Tony asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Peter nodded.

“I like living with you, Tony. So far there isn’t anything I don’t like about it.”

“You have enough toys?”

“Yes.”

“You’re okay with the food?”

A smile and another nod.

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t annoy you that I like picking you up and carrying you, sometimes? You’re not too _old_ for that, are you? You can tell me if you are, though.”

“I _like_ it. It makes me feel special.”

“Because you are special.”

“Because I’m smart?”

“No. Lots of kids are smart. I don’t like all of them. Only _you_.”

“Because I can stick to walls?”

Tony smiled at that.

“I like _you_. Not your abilities. You’re a great guy, Peter.”

The boy wrapped his arms around himself in happiness, and Tony saw the movement, even though Peter was covered with blankets.

“I like you, too, Tony.”

“Good.” He felt the sting of tears trying to burst out, and wiped his nose, impatiently. “So, if the others are coming Christmas eve, you should probably starting thinking about what you want to get them for Christmas.”

Lord knew they were almost certainly going to bury Peter in presents.

“I don’t have any money.” He hesitated. “I could figure out some _odds_ for you, though,” Peter added. “Like I used to do for May. She would make a lot of money, sometimes, because of what I told her.”

Tony shook his head, forced to not smile.

“Or… we could not do that. I’m pretty sure the state would frown on me using you like that. Besides, you’re not going to need to resort to illegal gambling to have money.”

“I’m _not_?”

“Nope. You’ll get an allowance. That’s a thing, right?”

“I’ve never got an allowance, before.”

“But that was when you were _seven_. Eight-year-olds have a lot of responsibilities. So they should get an allowance.”

“What kind of responsibilities?”

“You have to make your own bed. And keep your bathroom clean, right?”

“Yes.”

Tony had already told him that there was a cleaning person who came out – but when Peter’s hands had clutched his backpack, a little, he’d been quick to assure the child that the woman who came was someone that had been working in the building for years, and was very honest.

“See? Those are _responsibilities_. And I’d say an allowance was in order – in case you want some spending money to buy something you want.”

He’d checked with JARVIS on what the average eight-year old should be getting and the AI had informed him that the norm was a dollar for each year of age. Which would set Peter up with $8 a week. Which would be fine if it was someone _else’s_ kid. Tony wasn't going to limit himself like that.

“Oh. _Wow_. I can get Natasha a present, then. And Steve. And Clint. And Sam. And-“

“And _everyone_. Right.” Tony smiled to soften the interruption. “We won’t go this weekend,” he told the boy. “Because you need a chance to earn money. And I have no desire to fight the crowds that will be out this weekend. We’ll shoot for _next_ weekend, though. Unless something comes up.”

“Okay.”

He smiled down at Peter.

“Anything else we need to discuss?”

“No.”

“Good. Go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Good night, buddy.”

“Night, Tony.”


	38. 38

The billionaire left, closing the door behind him, and Peter rolled over onto his side to look at the door, even as the lights faded.

“JARVIS?”

_“Yes, Peter?”_

“What should I get _Tony_ for Christmas?”

_“That is a difficult question to answer_ ,” the AI told him.

“Because he’s rich and doesn’t need anything?”

_“There are plenty of things that he_ needs,” JARVIS disagreed. “ _But he will never admit them, most likely. Not even to himself. Some are things that you can give him without realizing it. Others are things that are too complicated for him to understand, so you would have difficulty comprehending them, also.”_

“What can I give him?” Peter asked, confused.

It was like one of his teachers that he had when he was still living with May. She would answer any question that he asked her, but it was always making more _questions_ , really. That had been the philosophy class, and he’d been glad when it ended.

Peter liked answers that were black and white, not shaded with a lot of mystic nuances that made his head hurt.

_“Let me make a suggestion,”_ came the response.

“Okay.”

_“You’ve known him for a while, now, and have had a chance to observe him – somewhat. Now that you’re living with him, you’ll be spending more time with him. It will provide you with more opportunities to learn about him. What he likes and what he enjoys. That might give you more insight into what he might want for Christmas.”_

“Oh.”

That sounded complicated. Peter liked to solve problems, but he didn’t know anything about people.

Maybe he’d buy him a trainset, or something. They were pretty neat, after all.

_“Go to sleep, Peter,”_ JARVIS told him. And now the lights were off, completely. _“It isn’t a question you can answer, immediately.”_

He closed his eyes, but he was awake for a long time, mulling over the question – as well as what all of the others might like. He didn’t know what Tony had in mind for allowance, but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't going to be enough to buy something for everyone. It worried him, because he didn’t want to be forced to decide who got a good present, and who got something that he might try to make by hand. His parents used to tell him that they loved getting the handwritten and homemade cards and drawings that he made them, but they were his _parents_ , and they were supposed to lie to him to make him feel better about himself, he knew.

He could do some research, though, and maybe go online and see if there was anything that someone like him could do to make something that someone as great as Natasha, or even Nick, would like.

“JARVIS?” his voice sounded loud in the silence of his bedroom.

_“Yes?”_

“Would you remind me later to ask Tony if I could have some art stuff? Paper? Markers? That kind of thing?”

_“Of course.”_

“Thank you.”

_“Go to sleep.”_

Peter closed his eyes, again, but this time his long day caught up to him and overwhelmed his hectic mind, and he fell asleep.

><><><><>

_“Peter would like some arts and craft paraphernalia.”_

Tony nodded, not even startled by the voice of his AI after so many years, now.

“Order whatever you think he’d want,” Stark said. “Have it rushed so it’s here as soon as possible. Is he alright?”

“He is wondering what he should get you for Christmas.”

Stark smiled, and turned off his tablet – which was open to a website that gave suggestions for gift ideas for children.

“He isn’t the _only_ one. I should have held off a little when I stocked his room. Now I need to figure out something amazing to top what he already has access to.”

_“He’s a little boy,”_ JRVIS reminded Tony. _“He doesn’t need more than what he already has – and he definitely prefers your company over any of the toys in his room.”_

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Tony asked, smiling and shaking his head. “Because I feel the same way about him.”

_“Quite the coincidence, sir,”_ JARVIS said, and Tony thought that his tone was smug – although he knew it couldn’t be. _“You should go to bed.”_

“I have things to work on, and some research to do.”

_“All of which will wait until tomorrow. You’ll want to be refreshed in case Peter requests an outing.”_

“Is it still snowing?”

_“Yes.”_

“Then the only outing we’d be able to make is by sled dog.”

He did what he was told, though, and went to bed, rather than staying up half the night as was usual for him.

Just in case Peter really did want to go somewhere, the next day.

“Wake me if he needs me.”

_“I will. Goodnight.”_

“Night.”

He stopped at Peter’s room, though, and opened the door to peek in and check on him. The boy was asleep, and Tony smiled as he crossed the bedroom and looked down on him. With gentle care, Stark pulled the blankets back up where they’d shifted, tucking them around him. It was cold outside, but the bedroom was warm.

Still… he wanted him to sleep, comfortably.

Then he went to bed, closing the door once more behind him.

><><><<><>

“So how did it go?”

Tony leaned back in his chair, feeling smug and even content. His expression was enough to make Pepper smile.

“It was good. Some of the others came over for dinner on Thanksgiving, we filled him full of turkey and Nick convinced him Santa was real.”

“Nick did?”

“Yup. So, of course, we had to go find a Christmas tree, and stuff to decorate it with.”

“You two are getting along?” she asked, looking surprised and pleased, both. He looked as cheerful as she could ever remember seeing him. “He’s not driving you to distraction?”

“We’re still getting to know each other,” Tony reminded her. “I expect once he feels more confident about our living arrangements, he’ll start to loosen up a little more. Maybe run amok, or something. Of course, Nick has a SHIELD agent assigned to him while he’s at school, and I’ll be watching him when he’s here – and at home – so he’ll be reined in fairly well.”

“A _SHIELD_ agent?” she repeated. “In case someone decides you like him, and makes a play for him, to exchange for a ransom?”

Proving she wasn't stupid.

“Exactly.”

“Is there a lot of concern that that will happen?”

“Not too much,” he said, shrugging. “You know how Romanoff and Fury are, though.”

She did.

“So this is going to work, then? The foster dad thing? You like it?”

He seemed to be enjoying it. But then, he’d only done it a weekend.

“I like _him_.”

“Good.”

“And you should be aware, you’re invited to Christmas eve.”

Pepper smiled at that.

“Oh?”

“Yes. And don’t say you’re not coming, because Peter is excited by the idea, and he’s going to personally invite you. So good luck resisting his big brown eyes.”

“I’ve resisted _yours_ for years…”

“He’s a lot nicer than I am, though.”

Her expression softened.

“You’re doing okay.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded.

“May I make a suggestion, though?”

“Yes.”

Of course she could. Tony was well aware that she was smarter than he was.

“How much time – since he’s moved in with you – has he spent with children his own age?”

“None,” Tony admitted “Unless you count standing in line waiting to see Santa.”

“You took him to see Santa?”

“Yep.”

“Awww.” The softly uttered noise made Tony roll his eyes, but he was pleased that it made her smile, too. With one stroke he’d made Pepper happy, as well as Peter. “Did he get a picture?”

“Yes.” He’d had JARVIS scan it, immediately, and it was officially part of his network. The display on his desk came alive and an image of little Peter sitting on the lap of a jolly older man in a Santa suit came up. The boy’s smile was happy, and he was looking at the camera. “I’ll have JARVIS send it to you, if you want.”

“Thank you. So, my suggestion. He needs time with kids his age. Hanging out with you and other adults – no matter how much they like him – isn’t going to give him the socialization that he needs.”

“I didn’t hang out with a bunch of kids my age,” Tony pointed out. “And look at me.”

Her expression changed to that one that he knew so well, but luckily, she let that comment slide.

“The tower has a daycare.”

“It does?”

“Yes. You signed off on creating it two years ago.”

Which meant that she’d set it up and used her authority as his assistant to make it happen without asking.

“Oh. That was nice of me.”

“People work better and more efficiently if they know their children are safe and being taken well care of. Productivity and morale has skyrocketed – and we’re actually doing well because of it.”

“Alright. But you think I should let Peter go there?”

“He comes in after school to do his homework. Is there any reason he couldn’t come from school, say hello to you and check in – maybe have a snack so you can ask about his day – and then have him go to daycare until you’re ready to go home? He could play with children his own age – and then, later, you can help him with his homework and get some time with him.”

“He doesn’t usually need my help.”

“Then he can do his and you can work on whatever project you might have going.”

“It’d be good for him?”

“I think so. There are several children his age enrolled. Even geniuses need playdates, sometimes.”

“I’ll ask him, today.”

“Good. I’ll set it up, and you can take him down to meet Ella before the end of the day. She’s the director.”

“If he agrees,” Stark added. “I’m not going to force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

“He’ll agree.”


	39. 39

It was a much happier boy that entered Tony’s office after school that day than had the last time, when he’d told the billionaire about being moved from Eric’s. Tony was at his desk, but he knew Peter was heading his way, since JARVIS kept track of the boy for him. Peter went to his desk, putting his backpack down.

“Hi, Tony.”

“Hey, buddy. How was school?”

“Good. Maria is neat.”

The SHIELD agent who would be primary for Peter’s outside protection. Specifically chosen by Nick and Natasha. She had been at the apartment to pick Peter up to transport him to school, and after very carefully making sure she was truly the person she was claiming to be, Tony had told Peter to have a good day and that he’d see him after school in his office.

Agent Hill had spent the school day wandering the halls of Peter’s school, talking to the administrators and the school’s resource officer, as well and peeking in and checking on Peter every fifteen minutes. The boy wasn't aware, since he was doing his normal school activities, but she was diligent.

“I’m glad. Before you get busy, I wanted to talk to you about something Pepper thought of…”

No sense in taking the blame if Peter hated the idea, after all.

“Okay.” Peter waited to see if Tony was going to get up to come to him, and then walked over to his desk. He came around to the side where the man was, and Tony smiled. God, he was adorable. “Is it bad?”

Tony shook his head.

“Do you think Pepper would ever think of something bad?”

“No.”

“No. Of course not. There’s a daycare here in the tower, and she – that is, _we_ – thought you might like going there after school, instead of coming to my office.”

“You don’t want me to be _here_?”

There was no recrimination in the child’s expression. Just uncertainty.

“I want what’s best for you,” Tony told him. “And since I get to see you all the time, it might be a good thing for you to hang out with other kids when you’re done with school. That way you can play with them.”

“What about my homework?”

“It’s called _homework_ for a reason,” Tony pointed out. “It should be done at _home_. The only reason we _weren’t_ , is because I wanted you to come here so I could see you five days a week. Now that I get to see you every day, I’m willing to share you. A _little_. Sometimes with the Avengers and sometimes with other little kids.”

“Daycare is for _babies_.”

“Nope. For once, you’re wrong. It’s for kids to hang out, together, and play, and socialize. And have fun while their parents are working. We could go take a look,” he suggested. “You don’t _have_ to go, but I want you to at least look at the place before you say you don’t want to. Fair?”

Peter hesitated. He was still stuck on the way Tony had phrased it. It was a place to have fun while their parents were working. He didn’t _have_ parents, now, but he knew foster dad was a stand in parent. It made his stomach hurt to think of Tony as a dad to him. A _good_ hurt, though. An ache that he hadn’t felt before.

“It doesn’t have to be _today_ ,” Tony told him, misinterpreting the hesitation. “You can think about it. I promised you that you would have a say in thing, remember.”

“No.” Peter leaned on Tony’s knee, looking up at him. It wasn't asking much, really, and he was so nice to Peter. “You’ll come?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Tony stood up, scooping the boy into his arms for a moment, and hugging him.

“Did I tell you that I’m glad to see you?”

Peter smiled and shook his head.

“No. I’m happy to see you.”

“So am I.” Another squeeze, and he set the boy on his feet, and then offered him his hand. “Come on. We’re going to meet Ella.”

“Okay.”

><><><><>><>

The daycare occupied a large section of the third floor, but there were only two access points to get to it. This was done on purpose, to make certain that the only people who mingled with the children there were parents or staff. Because of that, there was a security person at the door, next to the large desk that people would check in at when picking up or dropping off their children.

Peter held back when they reached the door, once more getting shy at the idea of meeting someone new. _Many_ someones, really, because there were a lot of kids in the room beyond the first door. The room was bright, and the walls were painted in cheerful colors. Some of the children were playing with blocks, or Legos, building things and others were running around playing all kinds of games. All seemed to be having fun. There were dozens of activities going on at once, all tailored to the age of the children doing it, and several adults were watching, or participating, as well.

A woman came to greet them, smiling at Tony, first but then looking down at Peter with a warm smile. She was older and graying, but her mannerism was kind as she studied the boy who was peeking out at her from behind Tony’s leg.

“You must be Peter.”

He nodded, putting his arm around Tony’s leg, but leaning away from him a little in response to her kindness.

“Peter’s shy, sometimes,” Tony said, unnecessarily. “But he’s a fun little guy.”

“I can _tell_.” Her eyes never left Peter. “I’m Ella.”

“Hi.”

“Why don’t we show you around?”

Ella had already spoken with Tony, so she knew Peter’s history (although not his _special abilities_ ) and Tony had – of course – looked into _her_ background, immediately. She was a children’s education major from long ago, a retired teacher, and a mother of four and grandmother of three. Her employment and personal backgrounds were spotless – not surprising, since Pepper wouldn’t have hired anyone less than perfect to watch over the daycare, Tony knew. He’d liked her, immediately, even though his first thought when he’d heard _retired teacher_ was Marples. Someone he hoped Peter didn’t associate with the other woman, because the two couldn’t _be_ any different as far as personalities.

Peter hesitated, but there was no impatience when she put her hand out, offering it to him.

“It’s okay, buddy. I’m going to be here, too.”

Tony didn’t want to distract the older kids who would almost certainly recognize him from their fun, and he didn’t want the other children to know his relationship with Peter, if it wasn't necessary. That way they would be friends with him, just to be friends with him. There wouldn’t be jealousy or any kind of butt kissing.

Peter took the hand that was being offered, and looked around as he was led into the room. Some of the kids were running by, laughing, and it made him smile, too. They wouldn’t be laughing if they weren’t enjoying themselves, right? And no one was telling them they were being too noisy, either.

“We have fourteen children your age – or within a year up, or down,” Ella told him. “They all go to different schools, for the most part, but they get to see each other almost every day, here, so they can play together and have fun. What do you like to do?”

Peter shrugged, craning his head to see what a girl was drawing at a table they walked past. She smiled at him, and showed him, wordlessly. It was a picture of a chimney with Santa and his reindeer on the roof beside it.

“I like to do science.”

“Like building things?” she prodded, wanting to give him a chance to open up and relax at the same time. “Like an engineer?”

He nodded.

“Like _Tony_.”

That made both adults smile, and Stark feel a little gooey inside. He watched the boy as they walked through the various rooms that made up the daycare. There was a play room, and a nap room, and a movie room. These were being utilized by children as old as eleven, which he was told was the oldest allowed at this particular area. There was another section that was for teens, and a nursery for babies and toddlers.

There was even a kitchen, where lunches were made for the children who were there all day, and snacks for all of the others. Small children sized tables and chairs were neatly scattered for them to use – although right now they were empty.

“What do you think?” Tony asked when they finished the tour and found themselves back at the activity room, once more. “Looks like it might be fun.”

Peter nodded.

“Maybe.”

“Are you interested in trying it?”

“I don’t have to stay if I don’t like it?”

“Not if you don’t want to. You just tell Ella to have someone call me, and I’ll come. But I want you to give it a try. A real try. That way we know. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Starting tomorrow?” Tony asked Ella, just as a couple of boys ran by, laughing.

“I can’t start, _today_?” Peter asked, making the two adults smile.

“Of course, you can,” Ella said. She waved at the boys, who came over, immediately. “Peter? This is Gabriel and Jonah. Guys? This is Peter. He’s new. Let him see what you’re doing and see if it’s something he might want to do, too.”

The taller of the two nodded, agreeably, looking at Peter, speculatively.

“How old are you?” he asked as they walked off, heading for the corner where they’d been running to when they’d been called.

“Eight.”

“My age, then,” the smaller said. “Gabe’s ten. But he’s fun.”

Tony couldn’t hear Peter’s reply, and he turned to Ella, who looked pleased.

“If he needs anything, call me.”

“We’ll try to work it out, first,” she told him, walking with him to the door. “That way we can work on problem solving and interactions. If it’s serious, though, we’ll definitely call.”

“Fair enough. I’ll come collect him at five-thirty.”

Feeling comfortable with leaving his little guy with her and the other kids, Tony left.

_“Do I keep an eye on him?”_ JARVIS asked as Stark passed an interactive display.

One of many in the building.

“Of course.”

He wasn't being over-protective, he told himself as he headed for the elevators and his office. He was just being thorough.


	40. 40

_“You put him in daycare?”_

Tony rolled his eyes at the way Steve said it. Like it was jail, or something.

“Yes. It’s right here in the building and this way there are other kids for him to play with after school.”

_“And he’s okay with it?”_

“He’s been going for a week, now, and he likes it.”

_“What about his schoolwork?”_

“He does it with me, after dinner. At _home_.”

_That_ was working well, too.

Peter would be delivered to Tony’s office after school by Maria Hill, who Peter apparently liked. Since it was after the scheduled snack time at the daycare, Tony would be waiting with some kind of treat on his desk. He and Peter would talk about how their respective days were going while they shared cookies, or something else. Then Tony would take him to the daycare, personally, where Peter was always greeted with smiles from the kids – and the staff.

The boy would run off to play, and Tony would remind whoever was watching over the security desk that he was only a call away if he were needed.

So far, though, he hadn’t been needed.

He’d pick Peter up when it was time to go home, and they would make dinner, and eat, and then Peter would pull out his backpack, and would work on his homework while Tony was close by working on whatever project he had going on. Which at the moment was a new version of the Ironman suit. Then, he’d check the boy’s work to make sure it was right – which it usually was – and they’d spend the time until bedtime watching a movie, or playing boardgames, or with Legos and other toys. Tony would remind Peter to brush his teeth – or point out that he was probably due a bath – and when Peter was ready for bed, it was Tony who tucked him into his blankets with a smile.

_“And he’s doing alright?”_

“He’s great, Steve. Stop worrying.”

That was his job, but so far, so good.

_“What are you getting him for Christmas?”_

“Stuff.”

Tony was still working on that.

_“Don’t get him a bicycle. I did.”_

Ugh.

“Fine. I’ll take it off my list.”

_“Or a train set,”_ Steve told him. _“Clint found one for his boy and got two so Peter could have one, as well.”_

Seriously?

Stark forced down the annoyed noise that was sounding off in his head.

“No train. Got it.”

_“Fury got him a giant Jenga game. It’s made out of Nerf material, or something, so no worries about blocks falling on his head.”_

“Anything _else_ …?” he asked, wondering how he was supposed to give the best gift when the others were already buying them. “What did Sam get him?”

_“He’s looking for a ballpit, I think.”_

“I’m not putting a ballpit in Peter’s bedroom.”

_“In the living room?”_

“No.”

Rogers shrugged.

_“I suppose we can put it out here, for when he comes to visit.”_

“Good choice.”

There was plenty more room at the compound.

_“Alright. I need to go follow up on a few things.”_

“Where’s Romanoff?” Tony asked. “What did she get Peter?”

“ _She’s working on it,”_ Steve assured him. “ _But that’s all she’s telling me.”_

“Huh. That’s about right.”

She held things pretty tight to her vest when she could, after all.

_“Tell Peter I said hi, and we’ll see him next weekend.”_

“He’s looking forward to it.”

They were going to take the boy up to a ski lodge and spend the weekend sledding. Christmas vacation began that weekend, and it had been Rhodey who pointed out that a lot of the ski resorts had sledding hills and that it might be fun to do a road trip with the boy and take him on an overnight. Tony hadn’t said no, immediately, and Peter had been pretty excited at the idea, turning and looking at Stark with an expression so hopeful that he couldn’t say no.

While they were gone, Stark intended for some present to appear under their tree. There were a few, but nothing big, yet. It kept the thing from looking too bare, though. He just needed to decide what to get a kid that already had a lot more than he’d ever had in his life.

The call ended and he looked at his watch. He had a half an hour before he needed to go get the boy from the daycare.

“Bring up that screen, again, JARVIS,” Tony told his AI. “I want to get this figured out.”

It wasn't a project, though. At least not a Stark or Avenger related problem. The site that came up was a toy store, and Tony began flipping through the inventory, waiting for something to reach out and grab him.

><><>>><<

The man had a number of names, depending on who he was talking to – or who was looking for him. The name he used the most was Martin, because it was the name of a character from one of his favorite movies. He wished that his parents had actually named him that, really, and it was default for him by the time he was twenty-five.

He was lean and tough, and fairly ruthless. He had a veritable network of underlings who worked for him. People who were common enough to look at, but were willing to steal anything from anyone in the hopes that Martin would pay them something for it. If it was worth anything, Martin invariably bought it. For much less than it was worth, though, in order to make the biggest profit that he could when he inevitably sold it to a pawn shop, or a dealer – if the item was expensive enough.

The profit margins were big enough to keep him well fed and clothed to drive a fancy car and live in a nice place, but small enough that he stayed off the radar of any actual syndicates. People who would view him as competition and want to remove him – permanently.

His home was an actual _house_. Well guarded with a top of the line security system and with a couple of thugs who were related to him and completely loyal to him. The loot that was brought to him was stored at the house in a secure vault until any police reports or searches for the item might blow over and all alerts were off. Then they were taken out in batches and sold to a number of places in order to keep anything from being able to be traced back to anyone in his group.

It was a slick operation, and he liked the feeling that he got every time he opened his bank’s app and saw the profits that were adding up over the years.

Secure in the knowledge that he was safe from the police, and safe from the mob or anyone dangerous like that, Martin slept well at night, and the loaded Smith and Wesson that was in the stand by his bed was mainly just out of habit. No one could get by his guards. No one could get through his security.

He was untouchable.

Until someone proved that he wasn't.

The night was the same as it was almost every night. He ate dinner; sometimes alone, sometimes with his cousins, and personally looked over the inventory that he’d received that day in order to check dates, and what the going price for that item was at the time. Another reason to wait to sell something, really. To make sure that you sold it when the price was the highest.

He hadn’t _graduated_ , but he knew about supply and demand.

Then, he’d locked the vault and had had a nightcap and had gone to bed.

Sometime in the middle of the night a very soft voice woke him. A voice that definitely didn’t belong.

“Wake up, Sunshine, it’s time to pay the piper.”

His eyes flew open at the obvious threat, but as he started to sit up two things caught his attention, immediately. One was that something sharp was pressed lightly against his neck, just under his right jaw. The other was that the person in his bedroom was slight, and dressed all in non-descript black leather. A woman. One who was dark-skinned and had blue eyes that were cold as they assessed him in the near dark.

He froze, eyes wide with shock more than fear, wondering how she’d managed to get by his safeguards.

“Who are you?”

She smiled, but those cold eyes didn't look amused.

“I’m the _piper_ , of course.”


	41. 41

“What… what do you want? Where’s-“

“You have something that doesn’t belong to you,” the woman told him, cutting him off – but not cutting him, luckily. “And I want it back.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Of course, pretty much _everything_ in the house either didn’t belong to him or was paid for by _selling_ something that didn’t belong to him.

“No. I know. But we’re going to find it,” she replied. “Or I’m going to carve the value of it from your hide.” She pulled the knife away from his neck and took a step back. “Get up.”

There were a lot of things that he could do. He could toss the blankets at her, hoping to tangle her in it or to maybe startle her long enough for him to overcome her, or get his gun and kill her. He could yell for help – which was embarrassing, but was better than the present alternative. All of them – and more – went through his mind, but he was too frozen to actually act on any of them. And she exuded deadly intent.

Instead, he tried to talk his way out of whatever was going on.

“You’re in the wrong house…” he said, shakily.

The knife vanished, and he looked half shocked that it seemed to be working. He’d expected someone who seemed as stealthy and dangerous as she was to be smarter than that. Stupid woman. Whoever sent her should have sent a _man_ …

She pulled a different blade, then. This one wasn't blackened like the previous. It was gleaming in the light from the bathroom nightlight. It was curved and deadly-looking.

“Know what this is?”

“A knife…”

“A _gelding_ knife. Do I start taking my pound of flesh below the belt? Or are you going to get up and take me to your trove?”

“Who _are_ you?” he asked, again, feeling his testicles try to vanish into his belly at the threat.

“Last chance.” She brandished the blade and took a menacing step forward.

“No!” Martin held up a hand and tossed the blankets – carefully – aside. “I’ll take you to my stuff. But you’re wasting your time. I don’t have what you’re looking for.”

She was _way_ too good to be the lackey of someone low-level and he didn’t have anything on the premises that would attract the attention of anyone who could afford her services. _On purpose._

“My intelligence says that you’re wrong,” was the reply. “I hope, for _your_ sake, that you’re wrong. It took me a long time to track what I’m looking for, and I’m frustrated and annoyed. You don’t want me to take that out on you.”

As he proved that he was willing to cooperate – whether he wanted to or not, really – she took a step back and the knife disappeared, replaced by a handgun with a silencer. He didn’t miss the action.

“I don’t have anything worth killing me over,” he told her, reaching for his pants and wishing that the gun was in a pocket. “ _Jesus_ …”

She didn’t reply. Her eyes watched his every move, though, as he slipped on his pants and moved carefully toward the door. The question of where his bodyguard/cousins were was answered, immediately. Both men were laid out in the living room as they walked through it. One had been eating chips and was still holding the bag, but he appeared to be lifeless. The other was slumped on the couch, a small trickle of blood going down his cheek.

“Did you kill them? They-“

“They’re not _dead_ ,” she said, coldly. “Getting rid of bodies is annoying, and I only have enough room in my trunk for _one_.”

He shivered.

“What are you looking for?” he asked as he led her to the vault. “I’m not being smart, or anything,” he added, quickly. “I just have it catalogued and could find it faster.”

She didn’t look all that grateful, but she nodded.

“A Zippo lighter with a diamond on it. A ruby pendant with an Irish maker’s mark. A man’s wristwatch. And a one of a kind Magic the Gathering card – from a _green_ deck.”

He frowned.

“Seriously?”

“Find them for me.”

She didn’t go into the vault as he hoped that she would. Instead she waited, watching as he pulled the drawer that had all of the Zippos – wondering how the hell she knew he had _any_. Lighters were something that were collectible, of course, and very much in demand from a number of people. The ones that he had were some of the nicest, going for several thousand dollars each. The one _she_ wanted was worth even more, because of the jewel. He grabbed it and pocketed it, then searched through another drawer for the pendant, which was easy enough since he didn’t deal in fine jewelry often. The Magic the Gathering card was another oddity, but he only had one and he reluctantly put that in his pocket, careful not to bend it.

“I have a dozen wristwatches,” he told her, opening the drawer for the last item.

“It’s the third one from the right.”

Since he was blocking her view of his inventory he turned, surprised, but the gun was pointed right at him and he knew she wasn't going to tell him how she knew which was where in the drawer. He pulled the one she was referring to, uncertainly, since the one beside it was actually a _Rolex_ and worth a lot more than the cheap one he had in his hand.

“This one?” he verified.

“That’s the one. Put everything in a bag and toss it to me.”

“You’ll damage the card and ruin its value.”

“Do it.”

He did as he was told and carefully – very carefully – tossed the bag her direction. The woman caught it, easily, her gaze never wavering from his.

“You got what you wanted,” he said, trying to throw in bravado since she had what she wanted. “Now what?”

“Now you’re going to call the police and tell them you’ve been robbed and that you need someone out here.”

“What? No. I don’t want anyone-“

“You call, or I will. If I do, it’ll be because you’re in no condition to…”

“Jesus, lady. Who _sent_ you?”

“Are you going to make the call?”

“I left my phone upstairs.”

“You can use mine.” She tossed a phone to him and he caught it, reflexively. “911,” she reminded him. “Tell them someone has you at gunpoint, that way the police come faster.”

The woman didn’t have any mercy in those cold eyes of hers, and it showed. She was literally forcing him to call the police out to his own home – which automatically gave them permission to enter without a warrant. When they did, they were going to find everything.

He was going to be ruined.

“Come on… Let’s talk this over…”

“Do I start counting?”

“Shit.”

He looked down and dialed the phone.

><><><><><><

The SUV was parked a good half mile from the house, and police cars were speeding by, lights on and sirens wailing, when the rear door opened, startling Sam and Steve, both.

“ _Damn, woman_ ,” Wilson said, holding a hand dramatically over his heart. “Knock, first, or something.”

Romanoff smirked, and her hand came up, pulling off the black wig even as her features blurred and the mesh netting that had been her disguise deactivated, as well, revealing her true face. Which was amused.

“You knew I was on the way.”

She’d walked Martin to his bedroom after he’d made his call and had tied his hands to the headboard, to keep him from activating anything that might conceal his vault. The police were going to search through the house, find the knocked out thugs, the vault and anything else that might be lying around – and then find Martin in his room trussed up, neatly, for their convenience.

_“Getting rid of bodies is annoying, and I only have enough room in my trunk for one?”_ Steve said, incredulously. “Could you have come up with something cheesier? I thought I was watching a bad gangster movie.”

Sam chuckled, though.

“It was _great_. You don’t use all your good lines on small time crooks, after all.”

Romanoff smiled, opening the bag and pulling out the wristwatch that had once belonged to Peter’s father.

“Nicely done, Nat,” Steve told her, approvingly. “Should we take it over, tonight?”

She shook her head, her smile growing.

“No. I have a better idea. Let’s keep this between ourselves, for now.”

Both men shrugged, and Steve started the SUV.

They were done skulking in the dark. For tonight, anyway.

“What are you going to do with that other junk?” Sam asked, knowing that Natasha hadn’t singled out the watch, alone, to make sure there was no way to know that she had only been after the watch. She’d wiped out the security system and the guards hadn’t even seen her. She wasn't going to risk someone being smart enough to realize that the watch was the target and trace back to who it belonged to, originally. “It’s probably worth something to the right people.”

“I know who they belong to, as well,” she assured him, putting her seatbelt on. “I’ll have them mailed off from somewhere in Europe, anonymously.”

“Good plan.”

Another police car zoomed by, even as they turned onto the road that led back toward the compound.


	42. 42

“No daycare today,” Tony announced when Peter came into his office carrying his backpack.

“What? Why _not_?”

Tony liked that he seemed to want to go – it spoke well of Ella and the staff, as well as the children Peter played with when he was there.

“Because we need to leave, and go to the _mall_ – and we’re going to need as much time as we can get.”

“Why?”

“Christmas shopping. I want to have _all_ our shopping done before the weekend.” He set Peter up on his desk, and helped him take his backpack off. “I sat down with JARVIS this morning in between meetings, and we figured out your allowance.” He handed the boy a VISA card. “This is prepaid and ready to be used to buy the others whatever you think they want.”

“Wow.”

The boy looked it over, carefully.

“Don’t lose it,” Tony cautioned. “It has a thousand dollars on it.”

Peter’s eyes widened.

“A thousand dollars?”

“Yup. Allowance for the last couple of weeks – and for the next several ahead. I decided you needed an advance so you wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to get everyone something. Is that alright?”

Stark did everything big, really, and yeah, maybe a thousand dollars was a lot. But it was Peter, and he was who he was and he had a lot of money and only one _Peter Parker_ , right? Who else would he blow the money on?

“Yeah.” Peter looked at the card, again. “Wow.”

“Put it in your pocket,” Tony told him. “Then let’s get going. Remember, we have to wrap everything that we buy.”

><><><><>

It was well after Peter’s bedtime by the time they returned to the apartment. Tony opened the door, gratefully, and even Peter’s boundless energy had taken a hit, but he was still happy and cheerful as he watched the two valet attendants pile the gaily wrapped packages onto the coffee table and the sofa. Tony tipped them both, and they left, and then he turned to Peter.

“Go get ready for bed, buddy. Then come out and help me put these under the tree.”

“Okay.”

The boy had already taken his coat off, but he carried it into his room with him and Tony smiled as he watched him go.

The mall had been bustling, of course. There were people everywhere, doing the same thing that he and Peter were doing; trying to get everything done before the weekend, when it was a given that the crowds would swell even further for that last rush before Christmas. Tony and Peter had gone from store to store, looking for presents for the others.

Tony wasn't used to doing that. When _he_ handed out gifts – not something that he normally did, really – they were presents that had been bought by an assistant. If not Pepper, then perhaps one of the interns with good taste. And better sense than Tony. Now, though, with Peter’s hand firmly in his own as they walked, he found himself trying to decide if Romanoff would be offended by a _womanly_ Christmas present, or if it was safe to get her some jewelry or a sexy dress that he knew she’d be smoking in. And would Rhodey be annoyed if he got him a tie? Or would he like a bottle of rare whiskey, better?

Peter didn’t have any problem picking out presents for everyone.

Of course, he was eight, and despite his intelligence, he was still a little kid. The presents that he chose reflected that. Sam was going to receive a spy kit that he found in the toy store. Steve was going to get a basketball – a red, white, and blue one, Peter decided. He could play with it in the gym even when it was raining out. Or snowing. Tony smirked when Peter pointed out a pirate play set and asked if Tony thought Nick would like it.

“He’d love it,” Tony assured him, already anticipating Nick’s reaction when he opened that particular present on Christmas.

An archery set for Clint was an easy decision, and a bag of little green army men for Rhodey. He watched as Tony examined the dress that he finally decided would probably be inappropriate for Romanoff, and then said that if _Tony_ wasn't going to get it for her, could he? Another smirk of amusement and they were soon at the counter handing it to the salesclerk with Tony’s own purchases.

Then, once they had picked out something for everyone – including _Pepper_ , Peter reminded him – they went back to a few of the shops and found _extra_ presents for them – so they’d have a lot of gifts to open. He also picked out a gift for the Tatro’s home, allowing Tony to help him find a gift that could be useful for everyone, to avoid making them buy something for each person there.

They stopped for a bite to eat at the food court, and then Tony decided that rather than try to wrap everything _themselves_ , it would save them a lot of time if they had the professional wrappers at the end of the corridor in the mall do it for them.

Even _that_ had been fun for the boy, because he was the one who picked what paper each would be wrapped in. They were careful to keep everything labeled and they had fun spending time together, but Tony was definitely relieved when they pulled into the parking area of the apartment building.

“It’s been a long time since I had to put so many presents under a Christmas tree,” he told Peter when the boy came out of his room, now dressed in pajamas. Try _never_ , really. Not even when he was little. “How would you suggest we do it? By name? Or color of the package?”

“Big ones in the back is how my mom and dad did it when I was little…”

Tony smiled, but he nodded rather than let Peter think he was being condescending. Because the boy was so _old_ , now.

“You’re more flexible,” he said, instead. “I’ll hand them to you and you arrange them to your liking.”

There were already a few gifts under there; most were for Peter, but one was a coffee mug that the boy had made for Tony as an art project at daycare. He’d been so excited to wrap it and put it under the tree, and had smiled, happily, while the billionaire fondled the package and tried to figure out what was in it. Peter was small enough that he had plenty of room to move around as Tony handed him gifts until the pile was gone from the sofa and table and they were all under the tree.

He sat down with a tired sigh.

“JARVIS, turn on the lights.”

The tree came alive with blinking white lights and Peter moved out from beside it, since now there was very little rom under it. The boy went over to sit beside Tony, and Stark put an arm around him, automatically, pulling him up against his side. Peter went willingly, just as automatically, and leaned against him.

“It’s pretty.”

“It _is_ ,” Tony agreed. He smiled. “And so domestic. Who’d have thunk?”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, curiously, looking up at him.

“Nothing. Just being weird.” His smile never faded, though. “We’ll sit here and admire our handy work for a while, but then bedtime. Yes?”

“Yeah.”

He was pretty tired.

Shopping was harder than he thought it’d be.

><><><><>

“Tony…?”

The voice was soft, but Stark didn’t sleep so soundly that anyone would need to shout in his ear to wake him. And he hadn’t gone to bed buzzed or drunk in what seemed like ages. His eyes popped open, sleepily, and he found himself looking at Peter, who was standing beside his bed, head and shoulders barely high enough to be seen.

Peter’s eyes were sad – they were, sometimes, Tony knew, but had been a lot more cheerful, lately. Now, though, they held a haunted look that Tony knew well. From his own experiences, not from anything Peter had told him.

“Hey, buddy. You okay?”

“I was wondering… does your suit have a parachute?”

“What?” Tony rubbed his eyes, looking at the time.

It was almost four am.

“Does your suit have a parachute?”

“No.”

“What if you _fall_?”

“I don’t fall. JARVIS keeps my systems running, and that includes the boosters.”

“What if something happened and JARVIS stopped working?” Peter pressed. “ _Then_ what?”

“Well… he’d reboot, and then I’d be able to catch myself and _stop_ falling.”

“But if it wasn't in time…?”

Tony sat up.

“You’re worried about me falling?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

The billionaire patted the space on the bed beside him, and Peter took the invitation, climbing up and settling near at hand, but still looking at him. Those eyes were filled with worry, and even Tony Stark wasn't immune to it.

“Then I’ll have JARVIS help me design a parachute. Or some kind of failsafe. Just in case. What do you think?”

Peter leaned into him, feeling a surge of relief that made his eyes sting.

“That would be good.”

“Yeah. But nothing too _obvious_ ,” Tony added, yawning, as he tucked his blankets around Peter and settled into his pillows, again. “Can’t look like it’s a concern. They’d take away my superhero membership card.”

“Is that really a thing?”

Tony chuckled.

“I could make it a thing.” He kissed the top of Peter’s head. “Go to sleep, alright?”

“Okay.”

“And don’t pee my bed.”

That made the boy smile, as Tony had hoped it would.

“I won’t.”

He closed his eyes and was asleep again almost immediately, comforted.

Tony lay awake for a while longer. He’d had his own bad dreams, lately, and they didn’t have anything to do with him falling. But they did revolve around someone – somehow – taking Peter from him and putting him in a different foster home. He didn’t think it could happen, but there was really only one way to make sure it didn’t.

He’d talk to Pepper, tomorrow, while Peter was at school. She’d know what he needed to do.

“JARVIS?” he whispered, softly. “Start looking into different prototypes for a parachute – or something similar – to add to my suit.”

_“Yes, sir.”_


	43. 43

“ _What_?”

Stark shrugged, not at all defensive about the disbelief in her tone – or her expression.

“You heard me.”

“That’s a _serious_ commitment, Tony…”

“I know, Pep.” His expression grew a little distant, and his eyes were gentle. He looked _peaceful_ , she decided. Not something she’d ever really seen from him, before. “He could use some stability in his life.”

“From _you_?” She asked, bluntly. Of course, it was her job to keep him from making mistakes and doing anything too reckless that might have serious repercussions, so he wasn't surprised. “You’re not that _stable_ , yourself, really.”

“I’m doing better,” Stark said, reaching for his tablet. “You haven’t had a scandal with my name on it in months, now.”

“True. But still… it’s a life-changing event. Are you sure you’re ready to settle down?”

“Yeah. I think I am.” He smiled. “Well? Can it be done?”

“I don’t see why not. I’d imagine that there’s a bit of paperwork involved. Do you have a timeline?”

“Find out what you can for me, please. I’ll let you know.”

She didn’t look completely convinced, but she nodded.

“I’ll see what I can learn.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, and now it was amused. “Are you coming sledding with us, this weekend?”

Another look of disbelief. _Sledding_. Tony Stark?

“There is _snow_ involved with sledding,” she reminded him – unnecessarily. “I _hate_ being cold.”

“There’s a great lodge. Big fireplace and all the hot chocolate you can drink.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

Tony smirked.

“I could have _Peter_ invite you.”

She scowled.

“Don’t you dare _weaponize_ that little boy.”

“What?” his expression was wide-eyed innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t want to go sledding. I can’t believe you’re even _considering_ it.”

“More than considering. We’re leaving Friday after Peter gets out of school, and won’t be back until Sunday. An entire weekend with a huge lodge, and a very cool sledding hill. It even has a tow rope so we don’t have to walk up the hill. I rented a cabin to keep us from being forced to mingle with other people, too much, even.”

“Well, that’s a start.” She scowled. “You’ll probably all get frostbite, though. No more Avengers.”

He smiled at that.

“We have high-tech hand warmers and inserts for our boots.”

“That’s cheating.”

“But it’ll keep us from coming home with colds. I have an extra set. Just for you.”

“I have to finish my Christmas shopping.”

“There’ll still be an entire week,” he pointed out. “I’ll even give you an afternoon off, so you can do it at your own leisure.”

His eyes were hopeful, and she felt herself giving in. But then she shook her head.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Great.”

He was careful not to be smug.

“Need anything?”

“No.”

“Then I’m going to go make a few calls.”

“Thank you.”

><><><><><

“Why are you working on _homework_?”

“Because it needs to be done.”

Sam rolled his eyes, picking up the textbook that Peter had propped against Natasha’s leg when they’d settled in for the two hour drive to the ski resort. Steve, Natasha and Sam had arrived at the tower in an SUV only a few minutes before Peter was brought in by Agent Hill, who smiled, slightly, declining – _again_ – an invitation to join them for the weekend. She turned Peter over to Stark, despite the others being there, and Tony and Steve carried the bags that Peter and Tony had packed the evening before and had brought with them to the tower that morning.

Now Steve was driving, with Tony in the co-pilot seat, while Sam and Natasha were on either side of Peter in the seats behind them. The boy had immediately started working on his schoolwork, although he was willing to make conversation.

“You _could_ do it tonight,” Wilson pointed out. “After we settle in and check out the lodge.”

“What if we go sledding, tonight? Tony said they have night-time sledding. If I get it done and out of the way, then I can have all weekend to play.”

It was clear he was looking forward to that.

Sam shrugged at the logic.

“Do you need help with it?”

“It’s Euclidic geometry.”

The man scowled when Natasha snorted, amused.

“Does that mean you _do_ need help?” Sam asked. “Or you _don’t_?”

Tony turned in his seat, interrupting the conversation he’d been having with Steve, but clearly paying attention to what they’d been talking about behind him.

“That means _you_ can’t help him,” the billionaire said.

“Shows what you know,” Sam retorted, holding up his phone. “I’ve got my google-foo working. I’m ready for anything.”

Tony smirked, always ready to be proud of just how smart the boy was, and to rub that intelligence in the face of those around him – even when it was people that he knew weren’t idiots. Like the Avengers.

“Good luck with that.”

“Give me a problem, Peter,” Sam said, his fingers at ready on his phone screen. “I’ll have the answer before you.”

Natasha put down the book that she’d been reading to pass the time during the drive, and looked over.

“This ought to be good,” she said, making Peter smile, even as he took his book back and replaced it against her leg so he could see the pages. “Don’t go too easy on him, Peter,” she told the boy. “He’s been getting a little cocky, lately.”

The boy nodded, but he just pointed to the problem he was working on.

“That one.”

Wilson’s expression was a little surprised at the complex equation, but he just shrugged.

“I’m on it.”

><><>><><

“Nice place, Tony…”

The billionaire nodded, looking around as they entered the ski lodge cabin that he’d rented for them. It was large, with a rustic look, a huge fireplace and several comfortable couches and chairs around it, with rooms going off in all directions – including a well-appointed kitchen.

“Yeah.” He looked at Peter and the others. “Pick a room.”

“ _Any_ room?” Peter asked, looking around, excitedly. He was ready to move around a bit after being confined to the car for the long drive. “Just for me?”

“ _I’m_ not sharing a room with you,” Sam said, tousling the boy’s hair as he walked by. “There won’t be any room for me with that ginormous brain of yours.”

Peter smiled at that, understanding that he was being teased. He carried his backpack into the closest room to the kitchen, while the others checked out the rest of the place.

“Can I have _this_ one?” he asked, amazed at just how big it was. When Tony had mentioned the cabin, and explained the rooms and all, he’d anticipated small rooms with bunk beds. Certainly not a room that had its own bathroom and a couch as well as a bed. “It’s _really_ big.”

Tony walked in behind him, looking around, and he caught Peter’s backpack in his hand to keep him from going any further into the room.

“This one’s _mine_ , buddy.” Leave it to Peter to find the master bedroom. The nicest and the biggest. “Let’s find you one that matches your size a little better.”

“Okay.”

Stark tossed his own bag on the bed – his way of silently calling dibs to the room – and he and Peter walked out to the living room, once more. The bedroom closest to Tony’s hadn’t been claimed, and Tony set Peter’s bag and backpack on the bed.

“This one looks good. _And_ it’s close to me.”

“Perfect.” Peter smiled up at him. “Can I go outside and look around?”

“It’s getting dark…”

“ _Please_?”

“I’ll go with him, Tony,” Steve offered. “I need to stretch my legs.”

Tony nodded his approval of that, and looked at Peter.

“Ground rules…”

The boy smiled.

“Yeah?”

“No wandering off. Stay close to one of us when we’re outside.”

“Okay.”

“No petting dangerous things.”

“Like bears, wolves, and angry squirrels?” Peter asked, grinning.

Tony wasn't the only one to smile.

“ _Exactly_. And you don’t go outside without one of us with you. Yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Why not just put him on a leash?” Sam asked, sarcastically, amused at the way Tony and Peter interacted.

It was fun to watch the guy toppled by a little kid – even though he might not even realize it was happening, yet.

“I would if I could find one,” Tony assured him. He shooed Peter away, dramatically. “Don’t let him get frostbite, Steve.”

“He’ll be fine.”

Since they hadn’t bothered taking off their coats, Steve just offered Peter his hand, smiling when the boy took it and looked up at him.

“Keep his hood up,” Tony told Steve. “I don’t want his head to get cold.”

Rogers waved his free hand to show that he’d heard, but he and Peter were out the door before Stark could give them any more orders.

“You’re so good with him,” Sam said when the door had closed. “It’s kind of _weird_.”

“I think it’s _adorable_ ,” Natasha corrected. “When are you going to make it permanent?”

“I’m looking into it,” he admitted, ignoring the way Sam’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Well, Pepper is, really.”

“Seriously?” Wilson asked.

Tony shrugged.

“I have to do something,” he told the other man. “If I don’t act soon, Romanoff will beat me to it, and then I only get to be Uncle Tony.”

“Wow…”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Don’t say anything about it, alright? I haven’t brought it up with Peter, yet.”

“When are you going to find out?” Natasha asked, curiously.

“Pepper will be here tomorrow. If she’s learned anything, she’ll let me know, then. But we’ll see what happens.”


	44. 44

“It’s pretty out here, isn’t it?” Peter asked, looking around, but with his hand still in Steve’s. “Like in movies.”

The man nodded. He hadn’t spent much time out in the woods, either, and _never_ at a ski resort. At least not to ski, or _sled_ in their case.

“Yeah.” He smiled down at the boy, bemused to find himself holding a little hand and walking through a strange wooded area. “Are you done with school, now?”

“Until the new year,” Peter confirmed with a happy grin. “I like school, but I like _vacation_ , too.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to be,” Rogers assured him. “What are you going to do during the days, while Tony’s working?”

“There’s a daycare. I think I’ll be there.”

He hadn’t really thought about it, actually.

“Maybe I’ll see if we can steal you for a day – sometime after Christmas.”

“Wow.”

Steve’s smile was warm and amused.

“Does that mean you’d be interested?”

“If Tony says it’s okay, yeah. It’d be great.”

“He’ll say it’s okay,” Steve said, confidently. “You like living with him?”

Peter nodded.

“He’s nice.”

Which wasn't a description that Steve had ever associated with Tony Stark.

“He’s a good man,” he agreed. “Are you eating enough? Getting enough sleep? You’re not just sitting in front of the TV all day, are you?”

The little boy laughed.

“You sound like you do on those commercials they show in school.”

Steve let go of his hand so he could tug on the hood of his coat.

“I’m _supposed_ to sound like that,” he told the boy. “Because I care. Are you doing alright with him?”

Peter nodded, again, reaching down now that his hands were free and picking up a handful of snow, which he formed into a snowball. “I eat a lot. I don’t sleep much, but the bed is nice. And Tony plays Legos with me, and lets me watch him work out his suit ideas, sometimes.”

“Wow.”

What a _nerd_. Steve didn’t know they came in such small sizes.

“Right?” Peter threw the snowball at a tree trunk and smiled when he hit it squarely. “He took me to see Santa.”

“I _heard_. So aside from what you asked Santa for – since I’m going to leave that up to him – what _else_ did you want for Christmas? I need ideas. I’ve never had a little guy to buy for and I want to make sure I get it right.”

Peter smiled and started to say something, but then hesitated and shook his head.

“It’s too expensive.”

Steve picked him up and turned him upside down, shaking him and making Peter giggle at the rough treatment that was so much fun to the little boy.

“Better tell me,” Steve said. “Or I’ll tell Tony that you were petting angry squirrels.”

The boy twisted around in Steve’s grasp, his eyes shining in the darkening daylight.

“A new bike.”

Rogers swung the boy up into the air by his heavy snow boots and caught him in his arms, easily.

“What color?”

Breathless, Peter’s smile was broad.

“Blue.”

“You got it.” The boy hugged him, and Steve hugged him back for a moment, and then swung him once more, bringing Peter up onto his shoulders. “Let’s get inside. I’m hungry.”

“Okay.”

><><>><

The cabin was warm, especially once they lit the fire in the fireplace, and the kitchen had been fully stocked in advance of their arrival. Tony and Sam were in the kitchen putting together a hearty dinner of canned beef stew and rolls when Peter and Steve returned from their walk. Or their _reconnoiter_ as Steve called it.

“What did you see?” Natasha asked from her position on the main sofa in front of the cheerful fire. “Anything interesting?”

“It’s _snowing_ ,” Peter said, pulling his coat off and leaving it on the floor under the hooks for the coats. He couldn’t reach them, after all, and knew it was senseless to bother trying. “And there are people skiing and sledding.”

The boy kicked off his boots and hurried over to the sofa, scrambling up onto it to sit next to her, but he was kneeling on the cushion and facing her – and that made him able to see Tony and Sam as well.

“It’s dark out,” Romanoff said, frowning. “They’re not crashing into trees?”

Stark smirked.

“It’s lit up at night to avoid that.” He looked at Peter. “We’re going to sled, tomorrow. Unless you want to try to ski?”

The boy shook his head. He’d seen enough movies that ended with people getting in accidents skiing, and had never seen one person hurt while sledding. Of course, he’d never actually done either.

“Sledding.”

“Good enough.” Tony smiled when Natasha put her arms around the little boy, pulling him down onto her lap, clearly in a good mood. “We found some board games, and puzzles,” Tony said. “When we’re done eating, we can relax, tonight, and get plenty of sleep to be ready for a busy day, tomorrow.”

He was looking directly at Peter when he said it. Mainly because the others weren’t little kids. He couldn’t boss _them_ around, really.

Peter nodded, relaxing already, since Natasha was a surprisingly good cuddler. Or he just liked being _held_. Either way, he was warming up, nicely, and she was idly running her fingers through his fine curls which was soothing.

“We can sled all day,” he said, smiling at Steve, who joined them on the sofa. “And there’s _hot chocolate_.”

“That’s what I hear. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to come.”

Tony walked over, standing behind the sofa and looking down at the boy. He looked ready to fall asleep, suddenly, as the long day at school, the excited, sleepless night before, and then the walk with Steve was beginning to take its toll.

“We’re having stew for dinner.”

“Okay.”

“And then I want you to get ready for bed.”

“Okay. But I don’t have to _go_ to bed, right?”

It was a question that he always asked, and one Tony almost invariably answered the same way, each time.

“No.”

Natasha smiled at how easy Tony was with the little kid, but she didn’t relinquish her grip on him, since he was willing to be held, and she never had enough chances to do something so domestic. They chatted with Steve and Tony and Sam, mainly discussing the ski area and what each wanted to do the next day – as well as the expected arrival of Pepper, who was going to join them sometime around lunch.

By the time Sam called everyone to the table, they had their plans made, and their meal was eaten with an accompaniment of conversation that was now more centered around more mundane things; training schedules, recruits and rotations, but still fun for Peter, even though he had no clue, really, who any of the people the adults were talking about even were.

“Who’s doing dishes?” Sam asked, when they were done. “Tony and I cooked.”

He looked pointedly at Steve and Natasha, but Peter spoke up.

“I could.”

“No. _You’re_ going to go brush your teeth and get pajamas on,” Tony told him, taking a sip of his coffee. “Natasha and Steve can team up and do dishes. You can help tomorrow.”

Peter didn’t argue. He disappeared into the bedroom to find his toothbrush.

“Did you learn anything?” Natasha asked, softly, after making sure Peter wasn't coming back, right away.

“I know what I’m getting him for Christmas,” Steve said, smugly.

Tony frowned.

“I thought you already bought him a bicycle?”

“I _did_ ,” Rogers said. “It’s assembled and ready to go. But now I know that he actually _wants_ one – so it’s a win.”

“What else?”

“It’s _snowing_.”

Sam was the one who rolled his eyes.

“You’re not much help.”

“Helped _me_.”

Sam would have to do his own interrogating.

“Don’t you have dishes to wash?” Wilson asked.

Natasha snorted, but she got up to help Steve start clearing the table.

><><><><>

_“Tony…”_

He was almost used to being woken in the middle of the night, although he knew that while Peter never slept the whole night through, he only woke Tony if something was bothering him, or (sometimes) if he’d had a bad dream and needed whatever reassurance the billionaire could provide. Stark opened his eyes, even as he felt his shoulder being shaken.

Stark rolled over and opened his eyes, even as he automatically looked for the time. His eyes met Peter’s, and he saw that they were happy and excited.

Not the usual mood for the middle of the night. Clearly the boy hadn’t had a bad dream.

“Yeah? You okay?”

“There’s deer outside my window!”

It was said in a stage whisper, as if to keep from scaring them away.

“Oh? Reindeer?”

“I don’t think so. Come look.”

“All right.” He wasn't really interested, but _Peter_ was, obviously, and wanted to share the occasion with him. He tossed back his blankets and allowed Peter to grab his hand. “Why are you up?” he asked as they crossed the living room and reached the door to Peter’s room.

The boy had played UNO with them for almost an hour before he’d started nodding off. When Tony noticed, he waited until the most recent hand was finished, and then suggested hot chocolate and some time on the sofa in front of the fire. Peter had snuggled right up against his side and had fallen asleep almost immediately, while the grown ups all pulled out phones or tablets and checked emails.

It had been Tony who had carried Peter to his bed, tucking the boy in and making sure to wait long enough to see if he woke. When he didn’t, Stark had gone back into the living room, told the others goodnight, and had gone to bed, as well.

“Heard a noise,” Peter told him. “Something scary outside.”

“The deer?”

“No. Something screamed.” Peter shivered. “I don’t know what it was.”

“Probably a rabbit, or something,” Tony told him, walking carefully to the window that Peter was sneaking up on. “Or maybe a wolf or a coyote?”

“It was scary. But when I looked out the window, all I saw were these…”

“They look pretty calm,” Tony said, softly. “If there were something dangerous out there, they’d probably be more nervous.”

“Yeah…” Peter was leaning against the cold glass of the window, watching the deer as they nibbled on the trees and bushes, rather than grazing since the grass that might be there was buried under the falling snow. “They’re pretty neat, huh?” he asked, smiling over at Stark.

Tony nodded, but he wasn't looking at the deer. He was looking at Peter, and his expression was tender.

“Yes. Pretty neat.”


	45. 45

“ _You_ look tired.”

Tony nodded, smiling a good morning when he walked over to the table in the small dining area of the cabin and sat down. He breathed deeply, smelling coffee, but uncertain if it was brewed, yet.

“I was up half the night watching deer outside Peter’s window.”

Sam wasn't the only one to frown.

“What were they doing?” Natasha asked, smiling a thank you to Steve when he set a cup of coffee in front of her.

“ _Eating_ , I guess. Although a couple were butting their heads against each other – maybe playing. That's what Peter thought, anyway.”

“He stayed up with you?”

“I certainly wouldn’t have stayed up and watched them if I were _alone_.”

Good point.

“Does he do that often?” Natasha asked. “Or is it just because of the change of scenery? He told me, once, that he doesn’t sleep much.”

“He doesn’t sleep through the night very often,” Tony confirmed, also smiling a thank you to Steve when he was handed a cup of coffee, too. “Most of the time he talks to JARVIS because he doesn’t want to bother me, apparently. Sometimes, if something is nagging at him, or the dream was particularly upsetting, he’ll come wake me up.”

“What do you do?” Steve asked.

“Depends. Either we stay in my bed and we talk for a while until he falls asleep, or I put him back in _his_ and stay with him until he falls asleep.”

“Is it always nightmares?”

“No. Sometimes he just can’t sleep. Can’t get his mind to turn off. I know how that feels; I’ve been there.”

“Might not hurt to have him talk to a professional,” Sam pointed out.

“I plan on it,” Tony agreed. “But I want him settled a little more, first. Missing a little sleep won’t kill me.”

“He’s a little boy, though,” Natasha reminded him. “He needs to get sleep.”

“You tell him that.”

“I _did_.”

Tony shrugged.

“If he won’t listen to you, then he isn’t going to listen to anyone.”

“Are we going to go sledding, this morning?”

“That’s the plan. An entire day of sledding, warming up by the fire in the main lodge, and more sledding.”

“If nothing else, we can run him all day and maybe wear him out enough to get him to sleep all night,” Steve suggested.

“Whatever works.”

As long as the boy had a good time.

><><><><><>

They weren’t the first ones on the hill.

By the time Peter woke and they all had a hearty breakfast and then bundled themselves into warm clothes, covered by heavy coats and hats and boots, there were plenty of other people out on the slopes. Most were skiing, and they weren’t allowed on the single hill that was reserved only for people to sled, but there were a dozen or so people sliding down the hill on inner tubes and sleds, or allowing the tow rope to pull them up the hill for their next run.

“You guys don’t _have_ to hang out with us,” Tony told the others, as they watched a ski patrol member hand Peter an innertube that was bigger than he was. “If you would rather ski, that’s fine. _He_ won’t mind, and neither will I.”

They all declined, and reached for their own sleds, both innertubes and regular plastic sleds, and Peter was guided to the base of the hill, surrounded by Avengers, even though none of the other sledders had a clue who they were under the bulky clothing. The boy watched Sam settle in his sled and then reach for the towrope.

“Got it?” Tony asked.

With an excited smile, Peter nodded, and then proved it by flopping down onto his innertube and then grabbing the rope with his mittened hand and squealing, happily, when it started pulling him up the hill. Tony hurried to follow with his own and Natasha smirked, looking at Steve.

“If someone had told me four months ago that I’d be doing this, I’d have called the crazy and made them pee in a cup.”

Rogers chuckled, but he agreed, completely.

“How many trips do you think it’ll take to wear him out?”

“Ten.”

“I’ll say seven.”

“Loser buys lunch.”

“Done.”

She tossed her innertube down, waited for another person to move and then grabbed the towrope.

“This should be interesting.”

><><><><><><

By the time Pepper Potts arrived at the ski resort, driving up on her own in a four-wheeled drive vehicle designed for the snowy conditions, Peter was asleep on one of the huge sofas in the living area of the spacious resorts main lodge. With Natasha beside him soaking up the warmth of the fire in front of them Tony didn’t need to worry about the boy when he received the alert that she had arrived.

He abandoned his cup of coffee and slid his feet back into his boots to walk over to their rented cabin and meet her at the door.

“Where’s your mini me?” she asked when he arrived.

“Dead to the world up at the lodge.” Tony reached for the bag that she’d been carrying. “He lasted longer than we expected, but he fell asleep over lunch.”

“You didn’t put him to bed?” she asked, walking into the cabin and looking around with interest.

“He won’t sleep too long,” Tony assured her, inwardly bemused with the fact that _he_ knew more about little kids (and Peter in _particular_ ) than she did. That wasn't something that he’d ever have believed could happen. “When he wakes up, he’s going to want to keep sledding. So we settled him on the couch up at the lodge. Romanoff is watching him.”

“Where are Sam and Steve?”

“Skiing. They’ll come sled when we start up, again. How was the drive?”

“Uneventful.” She was guided to the remaining bedroom, and Tony dropped her bag on the bed. “I have some information for you, if you’re still interested.”

“Oh, I _am_.” They walked out into the living room, again, but Tony went into the kitchen, instead. “I’ll make you a cup of coffee, and you tell me what I need to know – and what I have to do.”

“Sounds good.”

><><><><><

Peter woke with a start, and immediately felt a hand slide along his back, and heard a soft voice shushing him, gently. He opened his eyes, looking around and realized that he was on a sofa, cuddled up against Natasha’s side.

“I fell asleep?”

“Mh-hmmm.” She looked amused. “I did, too. Afternoons in front of the fire are perfect places to nap.”

The boy sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around.

“Where’s Tony?”

“Pepper arrived a little bit ago. He went to show her what room to use.”

“Oh.”

“Are you hungry?”

“A little. Not too much.”

“I’m told little guys are always hungry.”

“Are we still sledding?” Peter asked, hopefully.

“Of course. We still have _hours_.”

Relieved, Peter went to his knees on the couch, so he could look over the back of it and check out the room they were in. There were several big sofas like the one he and Natasha were occupying, and there were people gathered in groups sitting around and enjoying a break from the outdoor activities to spend some time relaxing.

There was even a guy playing Christmas songs at an old fashioned piano, smiling at a pretty young woman as he did.

“Where is Steve and Sam?”

“Steve and Sam _are_ skiing,” Natasha told him, emphasizing the correct grammar with a wink. He was eight, so she wasn't going to expect him to be perfect in everything, but life was filled with learning opportunities. “But they will be back in time to go sledding, once Tony and Pepper come.”

“How long will that be?”

He was eager to bundle back up and go outside, again.

The morning had really been a lot of fun for him. He’d seen movies with people sledding, of course, and if he closed his eyes and concentrated, he thought that he might remember a trip with his mom and dad a long time ago, but it was the first time that he could really remember sledding, and it had been so exciting. Being at the top of a huge hill – at least it looked that way to _him_ – and settling on the innertube and flying down at breathtaking speeds.

Other times, Tony would set him on the sled in front of him, the billionaire’s legs and arms holding him tightly as they sledded together, and that was even more fun, because he wasn't doing it alone. Sometimes they’d even race Steve or Sam – or Natasha – and one time they all made a chain of their innertubes and sleds and went down the hill together. That had ended in Sam’s sled bowling over a woman on an innertube and knocking her into Peter’s lap, which had dumped him and Tony into a snow drift.

Tony had checked on him, immediately, but Peter was giggling from the ride, and the woman had remarked to the man that his son was adorable. The boy had started to correct her, but Tony had just agreed with her, made sure that she hadn’t taken any injury from her tumble, and had told Sam to get a new pair of glasses so he could watch where he was going.

Then he’d led Peter and the sled back to the towrope.

Peter was thoroughly enjoying having so many people spend time with him. He knew he was lucky; they were avengers, after all, and all of them – _including_ Tony Stark – had to have more important things to be doing over the weekend than hanging out and sledding with him. But it was such a new thing for him to be the center of attention. When he was little, he’d been the only child and had his mother and father to dote on him, and him alone, but after they were gone, May had been almost the opposite, only really talking to him when she wanted him to run numbers for her.

She hadn’t asked him about his schoolwork, or played games with him – _mostly_ – and while she’d taken care of him, he understood, now, that she hadn’t really been doing much more than that.

It was a heady feeling for a little boy to be so doted on, and he couldn’t help it when he threw himself into Natasha’s arms, the quick reflexes of the assassin keeping her from being too surprised. She simply wrapped her arms around him, as if she understood how happy he was, just then.

“It shouldn’t be long,” Romanoff assured him, giving his cheek a noisy kiss that made him giggle – especially when she blew a raspberry near his ear that tickled. “Let’s find you a snack before they come back.”

“Okay.”

He moved so she could get up, and then followed her to the reception desk, which he already knew had a lot of snacks in bowls so people could take whatever they wanted. He glanced at the piano, again, however, as they went by, and the man playing it smiled, cheerfully, beckoning him over.

“You know how to play?” he asked the boy, ostentatiously, as he smiled at the woman he’d been singing to and blissfully unaware that Natasha was watching for the slightest hint that he was a danger to her little guy.

Peter nodded.

“Some.”

The man looked surprised at the reply, and he smiled, scooting over on the bench, and patting the spot next to him.

“Come play with me. We’ll make our ladies happy.”

Peter glanced up at Natasha for permission, and she shrugged. She’d already decided that the man at the piano wasn't a threat. She didn’t miss much, even when relaxing in a ski lodge and ostensibly on a rest day, and had noticed him with a little girl, earlier when they’d walked out of the dining room, Tony carrying a sleeping Peter in his arms. He was probably a dad, she decided, and Peter was pretty irresistible.

Especially if the guy was trying to impress the woman like she knew he was.

“Go ahead,” she said, moving slightly to make sure she had an easy field of fire if for some reason she’d read the situation completely wrong and he turned out to be a threat to the boy. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Peter smiled and climbed up onto the piano seat next to the man, sitting on his knees to be able to reach the keys on his side.

“George is a piano teacher,” the woman told Natasha, clearly besotted with the man, but smiling at Peter. “He’s a classic pianist. Your little boy is going to have fun. He’ll make him look like a maestro.”

Natasha nodded, but they both looked surprised when Peter’s little fingers echoed the tune that the man had been playing when Peter and Natasha had walked up.

They weren’t the only ones, though, because the man sitting beside Peter grinned his own shock and delight.

“You _do_ know how to play!” he said, cheerfully. “See if you know this one…”

He tapped out an easy concerto that Peter had heard several times, and then gestured for the boy to take over.

Which he did.


	46. 46

When Pepper and Tony walked into the main lodge, they were discussing plans for Christmas Eve and he was once more threatening to have Peter invite her over if she refused his own invitation.

“Everyone else is coming,” he assured her, smoothly, as he opened the door for her. “It isn’t as if it’s going to be just the three of us sipping eggnog in front of the fireplace. Nothing more intimate than a room filled with Avengers.”

“I said I’ll _think_ about it,” she reminded him, smiling.

She was pleased at the invitation, and she had to admit that the billionaire was beginning to mellow a bit – which was a relief. Not only because she hadn’t had to put out any fires in several months, now, but because he was smiling, more, and seemed to be getting more sleep and exercise – and maybe even eating healthier?

“Good. We’ll just be hanging out after dinner. Mainly watching for Santa, that kind of thing – although Peter’s going to have a very strict bedtime. I’m not staying up until the middle of the night putting together toys.”

“Did you buy anything that doesn’t come preassembled?”

“I may have ordered a few things,” he admitted. “I’ll have Rogers and Rhodey put them together before I let them leave.” He noticed a small crowd of people and the sound of a piano in the area where he’d last seen Romanoff and Peter – and a glance at the sofa where he’d left them showed it to be occupied by a group of young men drinking beers and telling bawdy jokes. “What’s going on…?”

They walked over to the small crowd, and saw Romanoff was standing by the piano, leaning against it and watching Peter and a strange man playing a wickedly complicated duet on the piano – much to the enjoyment of the small crowd of people standing around. Natasha smiled a greeting to them as they walked over, silently telling them that all was well.

“Did _you_ know he could play?” she asked, softly, when they stopped beside her.

“Yeah. I mean, I haven’t _heard_ him, but I read that he’d taken some music classes when he was little. _Littler_.” Tony smiled at Peter when the boy looked up at his arrival and smiled – but didn’t miss a beat as his little fingers flew over his side of the keyboard. “He’s not bad, is he?”

“Not at all.”

Pepper smiled, too.

><<<><><>

The impromptu concert ended soon after Tony’s arrival. Peter thanked the man who had been playing with him and hopped off the piano bench, blushing with pleased bashfulness at the spattering of applause. Followed by Natasha, he walked over to Tony and Pepper, looking up at her.

“You made it!”

Pepper’s smile was soft. It was always nice when someone was that happy to see you, after all.

“Of _course_ I did,” she told him. “I didn’t want to miss the chance to go sledding. I haven’t done it since I was a little girl.”

He beamed, not noticing that Tony was rolling his eyes, amused by the lie.

“We went this _morning_. It was fun. There are innertubes, and sleds, and this one group of people had a toboggin and there were like a million people on it, but some fell off when Tony crashed into them from behind. And there’s a rope that pulls you up the hill and then you let-“

“Don’t spoil all the surprises for her,” Tony said, interrupting and swinging Peter up into his arms. “She needs to see for herself.”

“Okay.”

Pepper smiled at the way Peter’s arms automatically went around Tony’s neck, his cheek pressing against the billionaire’s for a moment before turning back to her and Natasha. He looked so happy, and Pepper couldn’t help but feel just a little gooey at the sight of Tony looking so relaxed with the child in his arms. She knew it was hormones, or something, some kind of bio thing, but she suddenly wanted to hug them both.

Maybe Tony wasn't as crazy as she’d thought he was, initially, when he’d brought up the idea of fostering, and then making things permanent?

“You’re not wearing a coat or boots,” she pointed out. “Are you done sledding for the day?”

“We were waiting for you,” Peter told her, and now he had one arm around Tony’s neck, casually, while he spoke with them. “He said you would be here around lunch.”

“Did you have lunch?”

“Yes. Did _you_?”

Pepper nodded.

“I had a burger on the way.”

Peter suddenly frowned, and looked at her closely, and then at Tony.

“I don’t see any smoke.”

“What?”

“You said she’d be smoking if she wore the tight pants with-“

A hand was suddenly clamped over his mouth, and Tony’s expression was a mixture of pained and chagrined.

“That’s _not_ what I said.”

Romanoff snorted, delighted at the exchange, while Pepper’s expressive eyes lit up with amusement even as she scowled, at the man. She reached out and took the little boy from Tony, and Peter transferred, willingly, into her arms, secretly delighted at being passed around like a bag of potatoes.

“Come on,” Pepper said. “Natasha can show me where your coat and boots are, and Tony can go make sure no one wandered off with our sleds.”

“Okay.”

Stark rolled his eyes, but he was amused, too.

“I’ll meet you out by the tow rope in fifteen minutes.”

><><><>><>

The afternoon went much the same as the morning had. Only now, Pepper was with them, hanging out with Tony and Peter in a capacity that was as new for her as it was for Peter – and Tony. They had fun, though. Natasha and Peter made several runs up and then down the hill, together, and when Steve and Sam joined them, they were welcomed company.

There was even an impromptu snowball fight, which pitted Sam and Tony – and Peter – against the others while they hid behind a fort made of sleds.

If any of the adults had assumed the active morning would wear the energetic little boy out, they were wrong. At least for the majority of the day. His nap had refreshed him, and sledding was still exciting to him. He didn’t even notice how Natasha and the avengers kept him occupied and monopolized his company, often manipulating circumstances so that Tony ended up spending much of his time with Pepper. Tony would be getting ready to join Peter on a sled, or on an innertube, but it would be Sam or Steve, or – of course – Natasha, who snatched the child up and challenged him to ride along on his sled, instead.

It almost always only happened when it would leave one sled for Tony and Pepper to share, or when it left the two standing at the top of the hill. They both were intelligent enough to realize early on what was happening, but Tony shrugged, and Pepper didn’t mind. She was having a good time, and Tony Stark was good company when he wasn't being an asshole to the people around him (including _her_ ) and causing her PR nightmares.

By the time the sun started to go down and they turned the lights on to illuminate the ski runs as well as the sledding hill, though, Peter wasn't the _only_ one to start getting worn out, and all of them were soaked from snow getting under their outerwear and melting into their clothing.

The initial plan had been to make their own dinner, but none of them felt like cooking, so Pepper and Steve stopped at the lodge’s restaurant to order take out to bring back with them to their cabin, while the others returned the sleds and innertubes and then headed inside to warm up.

“Yu looked like you were having a pretty good time,” Tony said at the door as he helped Peter out of his wet coat and hung it next to his own and Sam’s.

The boy’s cheeks and nose were red with cold, but his brown eyes were happy.

“A lot of fun.”

“Good. Maybe we can do it, again, sometime.”

Peter nodded.

“I’d like that.”

Tony pulled the boy’s mittens and hat off, and then turned him by a hold on his shoulders, and pointed him to his room.

“Go get changed and ready for bed. Don’t brush your teeth, though, since we’re going to eat dinner, still.”

“I don’t have to go to bed, though, right?”

The billionaire rolled his eyes, making Sam and Natasha smile.

“No. I just said we’re going to _eat_.”

“But after that?”

“No. Not yet. We’ll find something to do. Maybe we’ll let Pepper decide.”

He’d point out to Pepper that Peter would relax better if she chose a movie, or something inactive like that to do after they ate. With a warm meal inside the boy and the heat of a fire, he’d almost certainly fall asleep.

“Okay.”

The youngster did as he was told and Sam shook his head.

“You’re really good with him,” he said. “I never would have believed it.”

Rather than be offended, or get defensive, Tony nodded.

“Neither would I. It just takes some getting to know him, I guess. He’s a complicated little guy, but he’s still a kid, and definitely has patterns. Like challenging bedtime whenever I tell him to get pajamas on.”

“I used to _hate_ being told it was bedtime,” Sam said, shrugging. “Probably all kids do.”

Romanoff nodded, but she looked at Tony.

“Especially if sleeping means nightmares and bad dreams.”

He nodded, as well.

“Probably the case. We’ll get him a shrink when I have more say in the matter,” he promised. “Until then I’ll deal with it as needed. You two go get changed, too. You’re soaked.”

Wilson rolled his eyes.

“That’s such a _dad_ thing.”

He turned and headed for his bedroom, and Natasha smiled.

“I’m _not_ calling you _daddy_.”

Stark’s smile was amused.

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

She chuckled and left him standing by the door, and Tony was still smiling when he started to take his own coat off to hang it next to Peter and Sam’s.


	47. 47

“Are you sure you want to pick _Cars_?” Tony asked, seriously. “It doesn’t have to be a cartoon. Peter likes _regular_ movies, too.”

He liked every kind of movie, Tony had discovered.

Pepper nodded.

“I get to choose, right?”

“Yep.”

“ _Cars_ is good. I saw it.”

“When?”

“At the premier.”

“You went to the _premier_?”

“You were _invited_.”

Which meant that she’d almost certainly told him, and he hadn’t bothered to show up.

“Oh.”

She smirked, and took the bowl of popcorn that he’d popped from him before walking from the kitchen out into the living room where the others were all arranged on the couch or the oversized comfortable chairs. Peter was on the sofa, and she was amused to find that he’d literally fallen asleep between the discussion of what movie they wanted to watch and Tony offering to pop popcorn.

He was sprawled bonelessly against the right side cushion, head on the arm of the couch where he’d been watching, eagerly, for Tony and Pepper to return.

“He didn’t make it?”

“Not even close,” Steve said, softly.

They’d been watching him all evening, looking sleepier and sleepier as they’d eaten a filling dinner of meatloaf, potatoes and asparagus. He’d even managed a few bites of the ice cream that Steve had brought back with them from the restaurant. But once he’d been in front of the fire, on the soft leather of the sofa, his long day and full stomach had overwhelmed him, and he hadn’t lasted long.

“Do we put him to bed?”

She didn’t know much about children, of course, but this was almost the blind leading the blind since none of them had any real experience with any kids – other than _Peter_ , now. Clint was their expert, since he had kids, but he wasn't there to guide them.

“No,” Tony answered before any of the others could. “If he wakes up and the proper length of time for us to have watched a movie and then put him to bed hasn’t passed, then he’ll know he went to bed, and will feel that we cheated him.”

“So, we’re going to leave him where he is… and watch the cartoon?” she clarified. “Just in case he wakes up?”

“Pretty much.” He shrugged, wryly. “What can I say? It’s _happened_.”

“ _Really_?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

She sat down on the sofa, putting her feet up on the coffee table and saving the space beside Peter for Tony. The billionaire made sure there was a comforter draped over the back of the sofa and then settled next to the boy. Surprising Pepper, and making Natasha and her both smile, Tony gathered the sleeping boy into his arms, shushing him, gently, when Peter stirred, sleepily, and then went back to sleep. Then he pulled the blanket down over the two of them, offering a corner to Pepper, who shook her head.

The fire was already almost too warm, she definitely didn’t want to be covered.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Sam asked, softly, before the lights were turned off and the movie started.

_They_ were all pretty tired, too. They were in good shape, but a day of sledding could wear down the most fit, and Steve (being the _most_ fit), dressed in sweats, fluffy socks, and a thermal long-sleeved shirt, was already almost asleep, too. _He_ opened his eyes at the question, though, and looked over at Tony, willing to defer to whatever he had in mind.

“Sleep in, have breakfast and maybe a walk in the woods before we head home.”

“No more sledding?” Natasha asked, smiling.

“Nope. I want to be home at a decent time, tomorrow.”

“Things to do?”

“Ask Pepper. _She’s_ the one who tells me what I’m doing.”

Pepper smirked, amused. They all knew there was a thread of truth to that statement, but she didn’t really set his schedule – beyond telling him the meetings and appointments that he absolutely had to attend. Other than that, he was free to work on his projects and be available to the avengers (and now Peter).

“Is your Christmas shopping done?”

“There are a few last-minute items to go under the tree. Some are being delivered, tomorrow. I don’t need to be there, though. I just want to make sure our little guy isn’t overwhelmed with too many activities being thrust at him all at once. I intend to have a week of just staying at home until the run up to Christmas.”

“Then I’ll clear your schedule of meetings. It’s Christmas, so it won’t be too hard. No one wants to have appointments when they’re trying to figure out how to get through the holiday, anyway.”

“We can swing by, though, right?” Sam asked. “You know… to drop off presents, and say hi.”

“Of course.”

“Are we _done_?” Steve asked, holding the remote control. “I want to watch cartoons.”

They all knew he just wanted to have the lights turned down and the movie start so he could fall asleep in peace and quiet.

“For now.”

Natasha threw Steve a pillow to get himself more comfortable, the lights went off and the movie started. Pepper looked over at Tony, watching him in the light of the display. The billionaire wasn't watching the movie, just then. He was watching Peter sleep, wondering if the boy was worn out enough to sleep through the night, or if he should even bother putting him to bed, later.

He might just take him to bed with him – or sack out on the couch to avoid waking Peter even long enough to put him into his own bed.

Stark looked up, and gave a mental shrug.

He’d decide later.

><><><><><>

“Home sweet home…”

Peter smiled at the way Tony said it, looking up at him as the lock of the apartment came open with a soft clock.

“I had fun.”

“I know you did,” Stark said. “I did, too.”

“And Natasha? And Steve? And Pepper? And Sam?”

“Yeah, all of _them_ , too.”

They’d actually said goodbye to Sam, Steve and Natasha that morning at the resort. Since the compound was well north of the city, Tony and Peter were going to ride home with Pepper, while the others went north. There had been a lot of hugs, though, in the parking lot before they’d separated, and Peter had been smiling the entire drive back to the city, talking almost nonstop about the things that they’d done – even though Pepper and Tony had both been there and lived through it with him.

She’d dropped them off, telling Tony she was going to go home and take a shower and sleep for a few days. Then she’d hugged Peter, tightly, and told him she’d see him soon and had driven off after they’d grabbed their bags. Tony was ready to relax, too, and was glad to be home.

He’d had fun, though.

Peter automatically looked at the tree when they walked in. Not so surprising, really, considering it was so magnificent. He dropped his bags on the sofa, though, and shrugged out of his coat.

“Tony, _look_!”

Stark smiled, watching as the child hurried over to the tree. Some new presents had been delivered and placed under the tree while they’d been gone. As well as one gift that was much too large to actually fit under the tree.

He walked over to where Peter was standing, running his hand over the piano, which was completely wrapped in gold paper with silver trim. Even the bench was wrapped, individually.

“Wow. I wonder what _that_ is…”

Peter grinned up at him.

“It’s a _piano_.”

The billionaire frowned.

“Think so?”

“It’s the same size and shape as a piano,” Peter pointed out, logically. “What else could it be?”

“Could be a red herring.” He smiled at the confused look Peter gave him. “Something to distract us from it really is,” he clarified. “Maybe it’s a _clarinet_.”

“It’s not a clarinet.”

Tony shrugged, pleased and amused. He’d known that Peter could play piano, and he, himself, played, but he didn’t have one in the apartment. He’d never even considered it, really, until he’d seen how much fun Peter had been having playing at the lodge. Which was all the reason he needed to have one ordered, wrapped, and delivered while they were gone.

“I guess we’ll find out on Christmas.”

“I don’t see a tag thing,” Peter said, looking it over, and still pretty sure it _was_ a piano. “Who’s it from?”

“No clue. I was gone, too, remember? Maybe we have a secret admirer.”

“JARVIS? Who sent the piano?” Peter asked, practically bouncing in eagerness, now.

_“The piano was delivered this morning by a music company in the city.”_

“But who _sent_ it?” Peter pressed. “Who got it for Tony?”

“Unknown.”

“Maybe they got it for _both of us_ ,” Stark told the boy. “It could be that there’s a card or something under the wrapping paper.”

“Can we check?”

“On _Christmas_ , when we unwrap it.”

Peter groaned, dramatically, and it made Tony smile, amused.

“Tony…”

He picked him up, drawing his attention from the piano.

“Sorry, buddy. Christmas is for opening Christmas presents. Not a week before.”

“I can’t wait that long,” Peter told him, turning himself upside down in Tony’s grip. “I’ll have a _heart attack_ , or something.”

“JARVIS? Is Peter going to have a heart attack if he has to wait for Christmas?”

_“There are countless other children waiting for Christmas_ ,” the AI said. _“None of their parents have reported them as having health issues from the anticipation.”_

Tony chuckled at another anguished groan, and dropped Peter onto the sofa.

“Go unpack your things,” he suggested. “Put your clothes in the hamper, and then we’ll do something.”

“What?”

“Whatever you want,” Tony said, shrugging. It was Sunday afternoon, after all; he didn’t have any plans. “As long as it doesn’t involve opening our new clarinet.”

Peter laughed and grabbed his bags, rolled off the couch and then headed for his room to unpack.


	48. 48

The week leading up to Christmas – which was on Sunday – was exactly what Tony had planned it to be. Which was nice, really, because he liked it when things went the way that he planned for them to.

He and Peter spent a lot of time together, both at home and out and about on a few minor expeditions.

Swapping his sportscar for a mini SUV with all wheel drive, he and Peter went out one night to look at all of the Christmas displays in various neighborhoods. The lights were amazing in some places, he had to admit, and Peter had been entranced, looking at them all with his face pressed against the glass of the car window.

They’d also gone to the tower a couple of times, for meetings that Tony and Pepper absolutely couldn’t get out of. Peter had assured Tony that he didn’t mind. The run up to Christmas had left very few people working, and that meant that the daycare was almost empty, but the boy spent time with Ella and a few of the kids that had parents who were either too vital to have a week off despite the holiday, or had things that they just couldn’t get out of – like Tony did.

He’d had fun, and when Tony came to collect him the billionaire had helped him get his coat on, and had then scooped him up into his arms and admired the drawing that Peter had made.

“That’s incredible,” he’d gushed, looking at it and wondering how someone with an off the chart IQ like Peter still managed to have the sloppy artistic skills of an eight-year-old. Clearly his talents lay in the sciences and not the arts. Tony didn’t mind, of course. It was simply a reminder that Peter was a little guy, still, despite his accelerated learning in other ways. “What is it?”

“It’s us,” Peter had told him, proudly. “We’re sledding.” He pointed to each blob with smiley faces. “That’s me, and that’s you, and there’s Sam, and Steve, and Pepper.”

“What’s this?”

“The woman you ran over with the sled.”

“We went down that hill a thousand times, and that’s what you decided to immortalize?”

Peter giggled.

“It was funny.”

Tony had simply rolled his eyes and pressed his cheek against the boy’s.

“You’re a funny guy, kid.”

And then he’d scooped up the boy’s backpack and had carried both to the elevator to take him home.

Another trip had been to the store. This had been accomplished in the middle of the night. Peter had woken after a particularly intense dream, and Tony had been up working on the new nanotech idea that he had for the latest incarnation of his suit. When JARVIS informed Stark the boy was awake, Tony had gone to check on him and had found him sitting up in his bed, shivering just a little despite the warmth of the room and the fuzzy pajamas that he’d worn to bed.

It hadn’t been a nightmare, Peter had assured him when Tony settled himself on the bed and had gathered the child into his embrace, tucking his head under his chin. He’d just had a dream. He couldn’t explain it, because he didn’t really understand what he’d dreamed. He didn’t seem upset, so Tony didn’t press, but when Peter was still wide-awake an hour later, he asked if he minded if they went and did their shopping for Christmas eve dinner, then, instead of waiting for the next day as they’d planned.

Peter had been willing, of course, and they’d gotten dressed and bundled up and went to the store. It was a 24-hour establishment, and even in the middle of the night, they weren’t the only shoppers, but there were no where near the crowds that there would have been the next day. They leisurely wandered up and down the aisles, consulting a list that they’d made the evening before and occasionally adding an item if it looked good.

Tony had hesitated when Peter held up one bag, however, looking excited.

“ _Look_ , Tony!”

“Ugh. You’d eat that?”

They were marshmallows with chocolate inside them, so he knew the answer well before Peter nodded his head, enthusiastically.

“It’s like a s’mores.”

Which was exactly what the bag said. Simply add a graham cracker and you had a sugary treat that was guaranteed to have the kid (or adult) bouncing off the walls in no time. Well, that was the way Stark read it when he'd looked.

“Are you sure?”

“ _Please_?”

And it had gone into the cart.

Of course.

Tony was beginning to think that he had the whole being a dad thing down, fairly well, by the time the day before Christmas finally came. All the nightmarish stories that he’d heard about, or read about – or even saw on some magazine covers – never materialized. Peter was – for the most part – a good-natured little boy who had his quirks, but was someone that the billionaire thoroughly enjoyed being around.

Because he was so intelligent, it was hard to imagine the boy being like all of the dumb little kids that others had warned him about, and Tony was smug, thinking that he’d dodged that bullet, anyway. The warning that silence was a sure sign that you should check and see what was going on with your child didn’t seem to apply to Peter. If he were silent, it was most likely because he was playing in his room, or working on some problem that he’d suddenly thought up – and was doing it in his head, or with JARVIS. He was a bundle of energy, yes, but he had good sense, and was too smart to be dumb.

Or so the billionaire thought.

><><><><><>

“JARVIS? Tell Peter he needs to get a move on. The others are going to be here, pretty soon.”

There was a moment of silence.

_“Peter might need a little help, sir…”_

“What? Why?”

Another moment of silent.

_“I think you should see for yourself.”_

Tony had sent the boy to take a bath and get ready for their company. He’d smiled at how excited Peter was. Not for Christmas presents or the huge meal that they had planned, but because the others were coming. Nick and Pepper, as well as Rhodey, Sam and Steve. Clint would have been there, as well, but he told Tony that he was going to have his evening full of putting together a doll house, two bicycles and a plethora of smaller toys that all required assembly. He’d see them, later, he said, and had brought Peter’s present the Wednesday before Christmas so it could be added to the hoard under the tree.

“Is he stuck to the wall, again?” Tony asked.

Maybe he should get a video, this time. He could blur out Peter’s naked butt to keep the boy from being embarrassed, but that was too funny not to share with the others.

_“No.”_

Too bad.

Tony went into the boy’s bedroom and found it empty. He heard the water running in the sink in the bathroom.

“Peter?”

“I’ll be out in a minute…”

Stark didn’t wait for him. Not when he’d been summoned.

“Hey, buddy. JARVIS said that you might…” he stopped short. “What the _hell_?”

Peter looked up at him, abashed.

“Oh… _hey_ , Tony…” he said, uncertainly, lowering the washcloth that he’d been scrubbing his face, almost frantically, with. “I might have a _problem_ …”

Tony shook his head, but he couldn’t help the smile that creased his face.

“Yeah… you might, at that.”

<><><><><>

It was Pepper who arrived, first.

Not surprising, really, since she lived closest. She had barely reached the door when she heard the magnetic lock click and it opened, revealing Tony Stark. The billionaire was dressed casually in jeans and a button down shirt, but looked good, and she could tell that he was freshly shaved and showered. He smiled and moved, gesturing for her to come in.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Merry Christmas.”

She walked in and saw Peter by the tree. The little boy came running over, and Pepper smiled, despite herself.

“Oh, _no_ …” she said, handing Tony the packages that she’d been carrying so she could put her finger under Peter’s chin to tilt his head up to give her a better look at his face. “What _happened_?”

Peter’s expression was chagrined, and his face turned pink. That is, all but the part on his chin, and jaw and cheeks where there was a crudely drawn goatee. One that was clearly drawn with a black marker.

“I thought it’d be neat to see what I’d look like with the same beard as Tony,” the boy said.

Stark smirked, setting the presents on the piano shaped clarinet that was still wrapped, despite Peter’s cajoling and hopeful expressions to open it, early.

“Needless to say, he didn’t consider that he was using a _permanent_ marker when he drew it.”

She shook her head.

“And you _let_ him?”

“Of course not. I was in here, getting the ham ready, and he was in his room.”

Pepper wet her thumb and scrubbed with it at Peter’s cheek.

“Poor baby.”

“It’s not coming off any time soon,” Tony assured her. “We tried everything.”

“Even peanut butter…” Peter added.

She frowned, looking at her boss.

“Peanut butter?”

“JARVIS suggested hairspray, but I don’t have any. And rubbing alcohol. Yet another something I don’t have. So we tried egg yolks, crackers and peanut butter, hoping that it might break any chemical bonds on his skin.”

“I could have told you that wasn't going to work.”

“Yes, well, we’ll deal with it, later,” he said, winking down at Peter. “He doesn’t have school for another week, and it’s too late to do Christmas cards. Plenty of time to figure it out.”

Peter wiped his cheek with the back of his hand.


	49. 49

“I got you a present, Pepper.”

Pepper smiled, reaching for the stack of gifts that she’d handed Tony.

“I got one for _you_ , as well.”

Peter’s brown eyes lit up, happily, and she couldn’t help but decide that the haphazardly drawn goatee made him look adorable. Of course, she wasn't the one who had to get it off by the end of Christmas break, was she?

“Tony said we can open them, tonight.”

“ _Just_ the ones from you and the others,” Stark corrected. “None of the ones from _me_. That way there are more for him to open, tomorrow.”

“Tyrant.” She tapped Peter’s nose, though, and handed him the gifts. “Put those where you can find them, later.”

The boy did as he was told, and Tony took Pepper’s jacket and handed it down to the boy.

“I need to check dinner, so _you_ can keep Peter company.”

She looked at the wrapped piano.

“You got a piano?”

“It’s a _clarinet_ ,” Tony told her.

“Until we unwrap it and it turns out to be a piano,” Peter added from under the tree where he was happily stashing presents.

She didn’t bother to try to understand what was obviously an inside joke.

“I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”

“Come sit down, Pepper,” Peter said, taking her hand while Tony went into the kitchen. The apartment smelled wonderful. They’d all offered to bring something to add to the meal, like they had at Thanksgiving, but Tony had declined, telling them that it wasn't going to be a really fancy meal – or a _difficult_ one – and that he and Peter could handle things. “We made a tray of food to snack on.”

She did as she was told, allowing him to lead her over to the couch. The TV display was on and was showing a _Christmas Carol_ , and the fire was going in the fireplace. The place was homier than Pepper could ever remember it being.

Certainly happier and brighter.

Peter pointed out a bowl of chips, and a plate with vegetables and dip. There was another, chilled, plate that held meats and cheeses and a sampling of crackers.

“This all looks _amazing_ ,” she told him, speaking loudly enough for Tony to hear, as well.

“We _made_ them,” he told her, walking back into the living room just as JARVIS announced there was company at the door. “Get that, Peter,” Tony told him, smiling at Pepper in anticipation of the reaction for whoever it was at the door.

He wasn't disappointed.

Natasha Romanoff walked in and immediately scooped him up into her arms, and then almost dropped him when she saw the drawn facial hair on his face.

“Did _Tony_ do that to you?” she asked the little boy, eyes alive with amusement at the sight.

“He tried to help me get it off,” Peter replied.

“That’s all on _him_ ,” Stark interjected. “I was working on salad while _he_ was supposed to be getting ready for company.”

“Well, that’s one way to do it, Cheese Pizza,” Rhodey said, his smile broad as he sluffed his coat and handed it to Tony.

“I didn’t think about it not coming off,” Peter admitted, putting his head on Natasha’s shoulder for a moment, clearly happy to see her and the others.

“You understand we’re going to be forced to take a million pictures of you, right?” Sam asked. “Because that’s some _cute_ shit, right there, and no one would-“

“Language,” Nick said before Steve could, reminding Wilson that he wasn't hanging out with his SHIELD agent buddies, at the moment. He handed his jacket to Tony and the bag of brightly wrapped gifts to Sam, and then offered his arms to Peter. “Come here.”

Peter transferred over, willingly, although Romanoff scowled at losing her handsome little man (especially since she thought the facial hair thing was adorable).

“What have you used to try to get rid of it?” Rhodey asked Tony. “Let me guess; _nothing_ , because you secretly love the idea of your mini-me looking even _more_ like you…”

“What?” Tony’s expression was innocence personified. “No. Of course not.”

“Did you use a _Sharpie_?” Nick asked Peter.

“Yeah.”

Fury looked at Stark.

“You gave him a Sharpie?”

“Yeah.”

“And left him _unattended_ with it?”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“He has a lot of things in his room, Nick. I leave him unattended with all of them every night when he goes to bed. This one just came back and bit us on the ass, is all.”

“Poor guy…” Nick chuckled, though, looking at Peter. “You got the _jawline_ a little off, though.”

“It was hard to do looking in the mirror,” Peter admitted.

“Where do we put the presents?” Sam asked, holding up the bundle of gifts he was carrying.

“Next to the clarinet,” Tony replied, gesturing to the piano.

Wilson rolled his eyes.

“Right…”

“I got you something too _big_ to go under the tree, Peter,” Nick told him, turning back to the door with Peter still in his arms. “Steve?”

Rogers had handed Tony his jacket, and now he opened the door, again, walked into the hall and a moment later returned with a brightly wrapped present in his arms. It was green and gold and had little Christmas trees on it. It was also the size of a refrigerator box – although Steve was handling it, easily.

“ _Wow_!” Peter said, eyes widening. “What is it?”

“Have to unwrap it and see,” Nick told him, smugly.

“But not until later,” Tony reminded them both. “Put it by the tree, Steve, will you?”

“Thanks, Nick,” Peter said, excitedly. He squirmed to get down, and then scurried over to follow Steve, already trying to figure out what it was.

“That’s the giant JENGA game?” Tony asked, softly, as they walked into the kitchen, leaving Peter talking excitedly to Pepper, Rhodes and Steve.

“It certainly isn’t a _refrigerator_ ,” Fury assured him.

Natasha looked over at Peter, making sure he was occupied, and then handed Tony a small box that was wrapped in silver and gold, with a fancy bow on it. There was a tag that read simply ‘ _From Santa’_.

“Here,” she said, just as softly as Tony. “That should go under the tree sometime after he goes to bed, tonight.”

Tony knew what it was, of course, but he raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you think you should give it to him?”

“It’s from _Santa_ ,” she reminded him.

“But you’re the one who tracked it down,” he argued. “It’s only right that you see his reaction when he opens it.”

Besides, he had other things that would occupy Peter on Christmas morning, and he didn’t want Peter to be too overwhelmed. The watch might be more than the child could handle. She shrugged her acceptance, and he handed it back to her.

“When are we eating, Tony?” Sam asked, walking over with Peter, and holding up a boardgame. To Peter’s delight, he was holding just high enough that the boy couldn’t reach it – even by jumping. “Do I have time to teach Peter how to play _Hungry-Hungry Hippos_?”

Tony frowned, looking at them.

“Where did you get that?”

Peter smiled.

“Sam gave it to me.”

“For _Christmas_?”

“Yeah.”

“ _No_ ,” Wilson corrected. “Christmas presents come wrapped in bright wrapping paper and ribbons and bows. I just happened to see this game on the shelf the other day when I was looking for a gift for Steve and Clint and I thought to myself ‘ _self? You know who might like this game?’_ and myself asked me ‘ _who_?’ and I said ‘ _Peter_ …’” He shrugged, “So I bought it.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but Peter giggled. The billionaire waved the two of them away.

“If I step on any marbles in the morning, I’m not going to be happy…”

“You won’t.”

“It has marbles?” Peter asked, still trying to reach the game.

“Come on,” Sam said. “I’ll show you. Coming, Nick?”

“Of course.”

Since Romanoff had the watch, Tony let her decide when the best moment would be to present it to Peter – and how best to do it. She didn’t show any indication of having it as some of them played boardgames with Peter, while others played cards at the table, drinking wine and simply enjoying the fact that the world didn’t seem to need saving, lately. It was a pleasant reprieve for them.


	50. 50

_Dinner_ was a bit more boisterous. Not necessarily because there had been wine, earlier, but the company was good and the Avengers could let their hair down, so to speak, and show their true personalities. It wasn't something that they often did, but it was enjoyable for all of them – _and_ Pepper – and Peter smiled most of the meal. He didn’t eat much, despite the meal being good. He was too excited about what came, next.

“Presents, next,” Steve said, taking charge when the meal was finished and everyone had even had dessert. “We can’t stay too late, and there are a _lot_ to open.”

The boy looked at Tony, his expression a mixture of hopefulness and excitement, and the billionaire nodded his agreement.

“Just the ones from these guys, though,” Tony reminded him. “And the ones that _we_ got for them. The rest are for Christmas morning.”

“And we can’t open _anything_ until this mess is cleaned up,” Pepper added, gesturing to the table, and smiling when Sam and Steve both groaned in exaggerated dismay at being forced to wait to open presents.

Peter was more than willing to help clean, but he was sent to the tree, instead. While the adults all pitched in to clear the table, the little boy pulled packages out from everywhere they had been stashed under the festive tree, piling them off to the side.

Natasha joined him, first, making suggestions as she settled on the floor by the tree with him, and then Sam, Rhodey, and the rest as there was less and less to do to be helpful in the kitchen.

“Are we ready?” Tony asked, coming into the living room with a garbage can in his hand. Peter nodded, excitedly.

“How do we want to do this, Tony?” Natasha asked.

“Not orderly,” was the reply. “Everyone sit down, and Peter will put all of your presents in front of you.”

The boy did just that, jumping to his feet and sorting out the presents. Soon, everyone had a pile in front of them, wherever they were sitting, and Peter’s own pile was gratifyingly huge. The boy leaned against the giant gift that Nick had brought for him, watching Tony, excitedly.

“Are we ready?” Tony asked, enjoying how happy Peter looked.

There were assorted murmurs of agreement.

“Get on with it, Tony,” Nick said. “I’m too _old_ to enjoy anticipation like I used to.”

“Go!”

The room was suddenly filled with the sound of tearing paper and the air was alive with ribbons, bows and entire swaths of bright paper being tossed aside.

The gifts were as varied as the people that they were purchased (or made) for but all were declared to be perfect.

“Wow…”

Peter was thrilled with all of them. From the bicycle that Steve bought him to the giant Jenga game from Nick, they were all exciting to him and Tony thought that his face was probably killing him from smiling so much. He’d open a present, admire it and hug the person who had given it to him, admire it some more and then neatly stack it to the side, so he had room to open the rest.

“I thought you were getting him a ball pit?” Tony asked Sam, looking at the model jet fighter that Peter had unwrapped and handed to Tony to admire.

“I _did_ ,” he replied, shrugging.

“We all pitched in on one,” Natasha added. She smiled at Peter, whose eyes were wide. “It’s at the compound, though. There’s more room for it there.”

“And it gives Tony a reason to bring you back for more frequent visits,” Sam added. “That way he doesn’t hog you to himself all the time.”

Peter hugged himself, making all of them smile.

“Thanks.”

“ _And_ you wanted to try it out…” Tony guessed.

“Whaaat?” Sam and Steve both looked as innocent as they could, and Peter giggled at the high-pitched innocence in Wilson’s tone. “Of course, not.”

“ _Did_ you?”

“We had to make sure it was safe,” Steve pointed out. “Didn’t want Peter hitting his little head on something.”

Tony shook his head, but he didn’t say anything.

“That’s all the presents?” Pepper asked, admiring the bracelet that Tony had bought her – and the matching ring that had come from Peter.

“One more,” Nick said, sitting up a little in the recliner that he’d commandeered as his own. “Come here, little man.”

The boy walked over, curiously, and Nick picked him up, settling him in his lap.

“You remember me telling you about how some of my SHIELD agents and I met Santa? Back when we were in the North Pole?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I saw him, yesterday… when I was out doing some secret spy things.”

Peter’s eyes were wide, again.

“Really? The _real_ one?”

“Yes. _He_ came looking for _me_ , really. He said that he had a special present for you, and he knew that I was going to be seeing you So, he asked me to give it to you, in case it fell out of his sleigh, or something, over the ocean, tonight while he’s flying around.”

“He did?”

“Yup.” Nick fished the small box out of his pocket. “He’s still coming here, tonight,” he assured the boy. “But he told me to tell you that you don’t have to wait until tomorrow to open this.”

“What is it?” Peter asked, curiously.

Nick shrugged.

“He didn’t say.”

“It must be special if he came looking for someone to hand it over, personally,” Natasha said. She smiled. “Open it and let’s see.”

Peter unwrapped the small package, carefully. It was a present from _Santa_ , after all, and was special. He saw a white box, and worried it open with his fingers, and then gasped, feeling his heart pounding and a surge of happiness go through him that left him almost breathless.

“What is it?” Tony asked, not missing the boy’s reaction, and glad that the others were there to see it, too.

Peter was too excited to sit still. He held it up and slid off of Nick’s lap.

“It’s my dad’s watch!” he shouted. “It’s really it! He _found_ it!”

The boy ran to Tony, first, and showed him, brandishing it so quickly that all Stark saw was a flash of metal.

“The one that was stolen?” Tony asked, catching Peter around the waist to hold him still to get a look at it.

“Yeah.” Peter looked down at it, and looked back up at Tony, his expression awed. “I wonder how he found it.”

“It’s Santa,” Tony said, glancing at Natasha and feeling smug that he was definitely right about her needing to see the child’s reaction. “He probably has a network of bad-ass black ops people who looked for it for him.”

Peter flung his arms around Tony, exuberantly, and he heard a muffled sob.

“Yeah.”

Stark looked at Natasha, again, and saw that she wasn't the only one smiling, despite the tears. He picked Peter up and gathered him onto his lap, rocking him, slightly, as he cried.

“We should watch a movie,” he told the others.

Steve hesitated, mainly because a movie was another two hours, and that would put them on the road later than he wanted. With the long drive back to the compound, still – especially on wet, snowy roads filled with people doing their own visits – he didn’t really want to commit to that.

“ _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ is a personal favorite of mine,” Fury said. “Do you have that?”

“I have _everything_ ,” Tony replied, smugly. “JARVIS?”

The display came on above the fireplace, and the lights dimmed. Watch still firmly in his hand, Peter turned his head enough to be able to see the cartoon, but he didn’t let go of Tony.

“I’ll make popcorn,” Pepper offered, sliding her hand through Peter’s curls as she stood up.

Awww.


	51. 51

By the time the movie was over, and the Whos in Whoville were dancing and singing, Peter had regained his equilibrium enough that he was turned around on Tony’s lap and watching the movie with the others. He was still holding, tightly, to the watch, but the tears were gone, now, and he smiled at the little dog being treated to a bone.

“That was pretty good,” he said when the lights turned back on and the display went black.

“You never saw it before?” Rhodes asked, incredulously. “Every kid has to see it, I think.”

“I have, _now_ ,” the boy pointed out with a slight smile that Tony was pleased to see.

“It was good,” Steve said, leaning over and shaking Sam’s shoulder to wake him, since he’d dozed off sometime during the sleigh ride down the mountain. “But it’s getting late.”

“I wasn't sleeping,” Wilson said, automatically, looking around. “Just resting my eyes.”

“It’s past Peter’s bedtime, too,” Tony told them, handing the boy over to Pepper so he could stand up and stretch his legs. “It was a good night, though.”

“Best Christmas Eve I’ve had in a long time,” Fury agreed.

“What are you doing for New Years?” Natasha asked with a smile, looking down at Peter.

“We’ll let you know,” the billionaire assured her.

Peter climbed off Pepper’s lap and went into his room where everyone’s jackets and coats had been tossed on the bed, while they all gathered up their gifts, putting them into bags to make carrying them, easier. Everyone but Pepper, who was going to stay a while longer.

They bundled up and said goodbyes to Tony, but all of them had a hug for the child, who hugged each of them back, happily.

“Merry Christmas,” Natasha murmured, holding him close. “Thank you for letting me come over.”

“You’re welcome.”

She smiled, glancing at Tony, before turning her attention back to the boy.

“And thank you for the dress.”

“Yeah,” Wilson said. “ _Definitely_ thank you for that dress. I can’t wait to see her in it.”

Romanoff shook her head, and released Peter to give Tony a hug, too. Not something she was really into, but as she pressed a kiss against his cheek, she whispered in his ear, not loud enough for anyone to hear but him.

“Let me know how tomorrow goes.”

He smiled, pulling away.

“I will.”

Stark held the door for the others, and then smiled down at Peter.

“Go get ready for bed.”

The boy nodded, and vanished into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, and Tony went back to the sofa and sat down with an only slightly exaggerated sigh of exhaustion.

Pepper smiled.

“Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“You realize you still have a couple of toys to assemble?”

“Why do you think _you’re_ still here?” He smiled, though. “It was a good night.”

“Yes, it was.” She looked at the door Peter had disappeared behind and lowered her voice. “Where did the watch come from?”

“You heard Nick. It was _Santa_.”

She rolled her eyes and they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Peter joined them, dressed in pajamas, and climbing over the back of the couch to drop down onto Tony’s shoulders.

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“No.”

“But you _will_ , right?”

“Yes.”

“Did you guys get cookies for Santa?” Pepper asked.

“A _lot_ of them,” Peter confirmed. “We didn’t know what kind he’d want. Tony said he probably likes Oreos, so we got different kinds.”

“Do you think you can get the plate together?” Stark asked the boy. “Or do you want my help?”

“I can do the _plate_ ,” Peter assured him. “Probably not the milk, though.”

The jug wasn't too heavy – he could lift a lot of weight, after all – but he had an eight year old’s coordination, and that meant milk didn’t always find its way into the glass on the first try. Or the cereal bowl, for that matter, as they both knew.

“I’ll help you, then,” he said.

“I’ll do it,” Pepper offered, getting up and plucking Peter from Tony’s shoulders. She toted him into the kitchen with her, and then set him on his feet. She didn’t need to ask where they kept their glasses, and the milk was obviously in the fridge. “Did you get enough cookies for the reindeer, too?”

The boy laughed.

“Reindeer don’t eat cookies. We have carrots.”

“You thought of everything.”

“ _Tony_ did. I asked why we have to bribe him, when he’s already bringing what we asked for, and he said it isn’t a bribe; it’s a rest break.”

“That makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

Peter arranged three different kinds of chocolate cookies on the plate in a circle and took the carrots that Pepper found in the crisper drawer and set them in the middle. Then he stuffed an Oreo into his mouth, mumbling happily to himself as he chewed it while closing the cookies back up and putting them away.

Pepper carried the glass of milk into the living room, leaving the cookies for Peter, and they set them on the coffee table.

“Should probably leave him a note…” Tony suggested. “So he knows they’re his?”

“JARVIS can tell him.”

“Good point.” Tony smiled and put Peter up on his lap. “Ground rules for tomorrow morning…”

Peter smiled, leaning back against Tony’s hands, which were holding him in place.

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to have ground rules on _Christmas_?” Pepper asked, rolling her eyes.

“Tony has ground rules for everything,” Peter told her.

“And _why_ do we have them?” Stark asked the boy, his eyes warm.

“To keep me safe and you sane.”

The way he said it made Pepper chuckle. It was clear that they’d gone over it enough times that it was practically a mantra, by then.

“Exactly.” Tony smiled. “So… while I am normally fine with you being up early, tomorrow is different. I want you in bed and doing your best to sleep until JARVIS says that it’s time. Then you can come out and we’ll see what the old guy left you.”

Peter wriggled, excitedly.

“Okay.”

“And you have to eat _breakfast_ before you start gobbling down candy.”

“Okay.”

“Anything else?” he asked, looking at Pepper.

She shook her head.

“Can’t think of anything.”

Tony nodded, turning back to Peter.

“Off to bed, mister.”

The boy giggled and rolled backward, tumbling himself out of Tony’s lap – narrowly avoiding braining himself on the coffee table – and making Pepper automatically reach for him, although Tony wasn't even fazed. Peter was a physical kid and liked moving in different directions like that. He was getting used to it.

“Good night,” he said to Pepper, leaning onto her knees, cheerfully.

She smiled and leaned over to kiss his forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Peter.”

That made his eyes light up, and he turned and headed for his room.

“Brush your teeth,” Tony reminded him.

“I will.”

The door closed behind him, and Tony smirked, reaching for one of the Oreos on the plate.

“A much different Christmas Eve than last year.”

Pepper took a cookie, too, and dipped it in the milk.

“Much,” she agreed. “As I recall you got drunk at the party and ended up passing out in the limo on the way home…”

“I don’t remember that.”

But that didn’t mean that it didn’t happen, of course.

“What happens, now?”

She’d never played Santa, either, after all, but she was sure Tony had done some research.

“We wait until he’s asleep and then I go get all the things that are hidden in my room. You fill up the stocking while I put together the robot. Everything else is already wrapped and just needs to go under the tree.”

“You’re ready for tomorrow?”

He nodded.

“Except for the robot.”

“I meant the important thing…”

Tony nodded, leaning back.

“Ready to change my life, completely? Pull someone else in to be the center of my world, rather than myself?” He smiled. “I’m looking forward to it, really.”

Which made Pepper smile. He didn’t look nervous, at all, and he wasn't jittery. She knew him well enough to know that he meant what he was saying, and she put her hand on his leg.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re going to do great.”

“Presuming he says yes,” Tony pointed out.

“There is that.”

><><><><><

They watched another Christmas cartoon, giving Peter time to fall asleep, and munching on the cookies, milk and nibbling artfully on the carrots, but leaving just enough on the plate to make it look realistic. Once the movie was over, Tony double-checked with JARVIS who assured them Peter was asleep, and then they went to work.

A small mountain of presents emerged from the closet in the billionaire’s bedroom – along with a large box that rattled as he carried it over to set it on the coffee table in front of the couch. The stocking that Peter had hung on the mantel of the gas fireplace was retrieved, and Pepper sat beside Tony, opening boxes of candies and fruits and stuffing it full of the small toys and gifts that Tony had ordered for Peter. Things that he couldn’t buy while he and the boy had been shopping, together, obviously.

While Pepper did that, Tony put together a small robot. Nothing as incredible as his suit, or his AI, of course, but an interesting piece of technology that was supposed to allow Peter to interact with it on a limited scale. If he liked it, Tony thought that maybe he’d develop an AI for Peter, as well. Not as advanced as JARVIS, of course, but maybe something that would cater to Peter’s young mind, and give him his own character to bounce ideas off.

It was something to think about.

The robot went under the tree, next to the piano/clarinet, and the stocking went back up on the hook by the fireplace.

“This was fun,” Pepper said, softly, as they looked around at the sight of the living room filled with everything that could make Peter’s first Christmas with Tony unforgettable. “Thank you for inviting me to share it.”

He reached for her hand.

“It’s late…” he pointed out. “You _could_ stay.”

Her smile was tender – as was her expression.

“No. But thank you.”

“I meant in my bed. But I would take the _couch_ ,” he added. “Or, if that wasn't comfortable, I could always cuddle up next to Peter in his bed. He wouldn’t care.”

“It might confuse him,” Pepper pointed out. “I know it would confuse _me_. Besides, tomorrow morning should be for just the two of you.”

Tony looked like he wanted to argue with her, but he shrugged, and went to get her coat to help her into it. Then he handed her the bag of gifts that she’d unwrapped, earlier. Presents from him, or from Peter – and a couple from them both.

“Drive safe.”

“I will.” She hesitated, and then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Call me, tomorrow, and let me know what happened.”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

She left and Tony went around the room, picking up wrappers, and tossing everything into the garbage with the trash from their gifts, earlier in the evening. To make sure there was no evidence, he then stuffed it all in the compactor.

“JARVIS? Is he still asleep?”

_“He is, sir.”_

“Wake me when he wakes up, will you?”

_“Yes.”_

Tired, but feeling pretty at peace with the world, Tony went to bed, too.


	52. 52

Despite his excitement at it being Christmas Eve, Peter slept well. Better than he had in many, many months, really. He was still bubbling over with happiness at being reunited with his father’s watch, and the treasure had gone immediately into the envelope in his backpack for safe keeping. With the sadness that having lost it now lifted, and the pure joy of experiencing a real Christmas after what seemed to be forever, Peter managed to sleep through the night.

Unheard of for him.

When he woke, he was warm and comfortable, and still surrounded with the peace that had enveloped him the evening before. Which was probably why he’d slept so well, even though Peter was too young to really understand the connection. All he knew was that he felt good when he opened his eyes. He stared up at the ceiling for a long sleepy moment before he sat up with a start.

It was Christmas morning!

And Santa had almost certainly come. He _had_ to have, really. He’d already talked to Nick, after all, and if he knew about his father’s watch and had been able to find it, then he had to have some idea how to find _Peter_. Peter had already been given what he’d asked the mall Santa for, but that didn’t mean he wasn't secretly hoping for more amazing presents.

And he could give Tony the presents that he had wrapped under the tree.

“JARVIS?” he whispered, excitedly. “Are you awake?”

There was the slightest of pauses before the AI replied.

_“Of course. Merry Christmas, Peter.”_

The boy smiled.

“Merry Christmas.” He hesitated. “Is _Tony_ awake?”

_“He’s waking up, now.”_

“Did Santa come?”

“ _He did_ ,” JARVIS assured him. _“I’m not allowed to record him, however, so there is no footage.”_

“You’re not?”

_“Of course not.”_

“Oh.” Peter tossed his blankets back and went to the bedroom window, looking out. It was still dark, but he could see the faint light that was off in the distance telling him that the day was starting. “How did he get in?” he asked, curiously. “We don’t have a chimney.”

_“I let him in.”_

“Wow.”

><>><><><><

_“Peter’s awake.”_

The announcement woke Tony from an interesting dream, and he mumbled, sleepily, for a moment as he allowed himself to wake up. Then he looked at the time.

“He just woke up?”

_“Yes.”_

“Slept all night?”

_“Indeed he did.”_

“Good for him.” Tony tossed his blankets aside and headed for the bathroom. “Is he excited?” he asked his AI.

_“He asked if Santa had come and I advised he did. Then he asked how he managed to gain entrance without a chimney.”_

“What did you tell him?”

_“That I let him in – but that I’m not allowed to video him, so there isn’t any evidence.”_

“Smart.”

_“I’m not just a pretty face.”_

Tony chuckled at that and washed his hands.

“Well, this is going to be an interesting morning, isn’t it?”

_“It is. Good luck, sir.”_

“Thanks.” He put slippers on, but didn’t bother to get dressed. Peter was waiting, after all, and he wasn't a monster. Wearing sweats and a t-shirt, and rubbing his jaw and trying to wake up. “Start some coffee, will you?”

Tony walked to the door to Peter’s room and tapped, softly, before opening it and peeking his head inside. The boy was sitting on his bed, still dressed in pajamas, but he was clearly wide awake and excited. He was hugging himself and practically vibrating.

“Hi, Tony.”

Stark smiled.

“Merry Christmas, buddy. Santa came. Come take a look.”

Peter sprang from the bed as if he’d been shot from a cannon, but he caught Tony’s hand rather than run out into the living room like the billionaire expected. The two walked into the living room, and Peter stopped, his eyes wide and reflecting the lights of the Christmas tree.

“Wow…” Tony let his hand go and Peter went over to the robot. “Cool.”

“Yeah, it is. Santa must be part engineer, huh?”

“Or maybe his elves?” Peter asked, running a hand along the plastic casing. “Neat.”

“Look,” Tony said, pointing at the stocking, which was bulging with gifts and candy. “He filled up your stocking, too.”

“Wow.”

Peter walked over and Tony handed it down to him.

“Why don’t you look and see what’s in it while I make some coffee and start breakfast?”

“Can I?”

“Sure. Just don’t eat any candy, okay? I don’t want you spoiling your breakfast.”

He brushed his hand along the top of Peter’s head when the boy climbed onto the couch, taking the stocking with him, excitedly. Then he went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee and started making breakfast, smiling and looking toward the living room every time he heard Peter exclaim over something that he’d pulled from the stocking.

Tony knew it was filled little things, mainly. There were several different Hot Wheels that would go well with the racetrack that he’d bought the boy. Legos, of course – a set of DC comic characters, like the Avengers ones, only not anywhere near as cool. Batman didn’t hold a candle to Captain America, after all. Even Tony knew that. But one of the gifts under the tree was a Lego Batmobile set and there were plenty of other uses for it. A pen and pencil set. New mittens that would match the new winter coat that was also under the tree in one of the boxes.

And a plethora of brightly wrapped candies of all shapes and sizes.

Eager to go back out to join the boy, Tony whipped together a quick breakfast of sandwiches made with bacon, eggs and cheese, put them on two plates and carried them out to the coffee table rather than make Peter leave his prize to come eat in the kitchen.

“Look, Tony!”

Acting surprised, Stark seated himself and rummaged through the toys and other trinkets while Peter wolfed down his breakfast, washing it down with a glass of milk. Tony ate his breakfast, too, wanting to be a good example, but when Peter finished, the adult set his plate aside, stacking it on Santa’s empty one and adding Peter’s.

“Ready for some presents?”

The boy nodded, excitedly.

“Can we unwrap the _piano_?”

“We’ll do that one last.”

><><><><

The next hour was fun. Both for Peter, and for Tony. He watched the boy go under the tree time after time after time, bringing out yet another present. Most of them were for Peter, but occasionally he would get a happy gleam in his eyes when he realized it was something that he’d gotten for Tony. The man was surprised, because he’d never seen many of them.

“When did you get this?” he asked Peter after the third gift was opened to reveal a tie. A _nice_ tie, too, not some cheap one that Tony had to pretend to like. “I love it.”

“JARVIS helped me pick it out,” Peter said, looking both shy and pleased that his gift was so well received. “One night when I couldn’t sleep.”

“Let me guess,” Tony said. “You had it delivered when we were gone and stashed under the tree?”

Peter smiled and nodded.

“I wanted to make sure you got something you liked.”

“Well I love it, thank you.”

He loved the coffee mug that Peter made even more, though, and kept it close by as he watched the youngster unwrap the race track, several new boardgames, an adapter kit, a new cell phone, more arts and crafts stuff, and even a football.

“This is a lot of stuff,” Peter said, sitting back beside Tony, holding a particularly intricate bow that was bright gold and red.

Tony couldn’t help but notice that he sounded a little concerned.

“You like it, though, right?”

“Yeah. It’s amazing.”

“Then why don’t you look as happy as I was hoping that you would?”

“I _am_ happy,” Peter assured him.

“But…?”

The boy hesitated.

“I can’t fit it all in my backpack.”

Tony forced down the ache that he felt for Peter just then, and instead reached out and touched his cheek.

“Interesting that you say that,” he said. “I have a solution.”

“Bigger backpack?” Peter asked.

“Something like that,” was the reply. “Let’s go unwrap the piano.”


	53. 53

He got up, pulling Peter up into his arms when he did. The little boy went willingly – eagerly, even.

“I thought it was a _clarinet_?”

“Well… I might be wrong. Now that you mention it, it _does_ kind of look a little bit like a piano...” He set Peter down on one side and took the other, the looked at him, expectantly, when he took hold of an edge of the wrapping paper that was covering it. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Go.”

They ripped into the paper with gusto, and between the two of them soon had it unwrapped, paper littering the floor in various sizes. Sure enough, it was, indeed, a piano. A beautiful black baby grand, with a matching seat.

“It’s _nice_ ,” Peter said, running his fingers along the side.

“Yeah, it is.” Tony had unwrapped the bench while Peter had finished with the legs, and he sat down, patting the seat beside him. “My mom used to play the piano,” he told Peter.

“She did?” he asked, climbing up to sit beside him, but watching him.

“Yup. We’d sit together, sometimes, like this, and she’d show me how to play.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was.” He opened the top, propping it up, and then reached in and pulled out a manilla envelope. “Let me ask you something…”

“What?”

“What would you think if I wanted to _keep_ you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want to be just your foster dad, anymore, buddy,” Tony told him. “I was thinking that maybe I could be your _real_ dad. Legally, anyway.”

Peter frowned.

“I don’t understand.”

“Because I’m not saying it right.” He was pretty nervous, after all, and the carefully prepared speech that he’d gone over a million times in his head before going to sleep the night before had been forgotten. “I really like you, Peter. Even more than _like_. I love having you here, with me. I think you’re a great guy, and _you’re_ alone, and _I’m_ alone, and I was thinking that if I were to maybe adopt you, then neither of us had to be alone, anymore.”

“You want to adopt me?”

“I _do_ ,” Tony confirmed. “You know what that means, right?”

“Like people adopt babies.”

“Right. But it doesn’t have to be a baby. It can be anyone they love. I lie in bed thinking about you, sometimes,” he said, brushing his hand along Peter’s hair, pushing it away from his forehead. “And I worry that someone from the state might decide that you should be moved to a different foster home, and the thought of them taking you away from me, again, makes me ache inside. So, if I were to adopt you, they couldn’t ever take you away from me, again. No one could.”

“I’d be your son?”

“In every way possible, yes. I mean, I know I’m not your biological dad, but I love you. I want you to stay with me. Forever.”

Peter’s expression was a mixture of hope and awe.

“You could do that?”

“ _We_ could,” Tony said. “If you wanted to…”

Peter’s eyes widened, as something suddenly dawned on him.

“Then I wouldn’t have to _move_ , again, would I?”

“Not unless we wanted to…” Tony gathered Peter into his arms, pulling him up onto his lap. “What do you think of the idea?”

“I’d be your son?” He repeated, as if he couldn’t believe the concept.

Or maybe just the idea that Tony wanted that as much as Peter did.

“You _would_ ,” Stark confirmed, feeling his eyes sting with tears at just how amazed Peter sounded at the thought. It was almost humbling to realize anyone wanted him that badly, really. Or to think that he was worthy of that kind of wonder. “And I’d be your dad. What do you think?”

There was a sniff.

“I’d like that, Tony. More than _anything_.”

They were quiet for a long time, just holding onto each other, but Stark’s rear was getting numb from the hard piano seat. He squeezed Peter, tightly, for a moment, before releasing him, and found that he had to clear his throat around the lump that had somehow found its way there. With Peter still on his lap, he reached for the manilla envelope, so similar to the one that the boy kept in his backpack, and show it to him.

“These are the papers,” he told him. “I wasn't going to sign them until you said yes, but I’m assuming it’s safe to do so, now?”

Peter nodded.

“You can use my pen,” he offered. “The one Santa brought me in my stocking.”

“Thank you.”

Peter slid off the piano bench, and Tony got to his feet. He went into the kitchen and stood at the island, watching as Peter went to get the pen set from the coffee table and bring it over. The little boy climbed into his chair and watched, almost breathlessly, as Tony pulled a thick stack of papers from the envelope.

“That’s a lot of stuff to sign.”

“I’d sign a million more if that’s what it took,” Tony assured him, making Peter smile.

He took the pen from Peter and began on the first page, working his way through them, methodically, reading everything quickly, just to make sure there weren’t any provisions or exclusions that had him being forced to give Peter back to the state’s care for any reason. The billionaire smiled when he saw that Pepper had thoughtfully added a single sheet of paper into the middle of the stack. It was official-looking, but not a part of the actual document, and Tony signed the top line, dating it.

Then he set it in front of Peter.

“What’s this?” Peter asked.

“ _You_ have to sign, too,” Tony told him. “Saying that you want to be my son.”

The boy took the pen and scrawled his name on the line next to the red x that had been placed there.

“Wow…”

Stark smiled, watching with almost as much awe as Peter. He took the paper back and set that one to the side, then went to work on the others, again, while Peter watched, breathlessly.

“That’s the last of it,” Tony finally said, crossing the last t with a flourish. “Pepper will turn these in, and a judge will sign off on it, and then you’re my son.”

“When will that happen?”

“I’ll see what she’s doing, later, and she can see if there’s a judge that has a kid who wants a Christmas visit from Ironman to make up for pulling him or her away from whatever they’re doing, today. How does that sound?”

“Great.”

“Yeah.” Tony hesitated. “You have to decide something, though. A couple of somethings, really, but one is pretty important, so I want you to think about it for a bit, okay?”

“What is it?”

“Well…” Tony said, putting the papers back in the envelope – except the one that Peter had signed, too. “Just because you’re my son, it doesn’t mean that you have to stop being Peter _Parker_. You get to decide what you want to be called.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can keep being Peter _Parker_ ,” Tony explained. “ _Or_ you can decide to have your last name changed to mine, and you can be Peter _Stark_.”

“I _can_?”

“If you want.”

“Peter Stark sounds pretty neat, doesn’t it?”

“It sounds incredible,” the man agreed. “But think about it, okay?”

Peter nodded.

“You said a couple of things…” he reminded Tony. “What else do I have to decide?”

“I know you don’t like to move,” Tony said. “But I was thinking that you might like living in a house better than an apartment, and that we might look for a place to move to. Somewhere with some grass and maybe a tree for you to climb in the summer.”

“And a swimming pool in the back yard?”

“That could be arranged.”

Peter hesitated.

“What about JARVIS?”

“What about him?”

“He’d come, too?”

“Of course. We couldn’t leave JARVIS behind.”

“Wow.”

Peter wrapped his arms around himself, but Tony picked him up and wrapped his arms around the boy.

“I love you, Peter.”

The boy hugged him, close, tucking his face against Tony’s neck.

“I love you, too.”


	54. 54

Assuming that Peter might be feeling a little (maybe a _lot_ ) overwhelmed by the morning’s activities, conversations and decisions, Tony carried the boy over to the sofa and settled himself there, with Peter still in his arms on his lap. _He_ was feeling overwhelmed, too – and he wasn't eight. Peter went willingly, feeling drained and happy and a million other emotions that he didn’t even recognize.

When Tony sat down, the boy shifted just enough so that his ear was close to the man’s chest and he lay still, listening to his heart beating, and feeling the thrumming against his cheek.

“Are you okay?” Tony asked him, softly, after twenty minutes or so of them just sitting, watching the fire.

“Yeah.” Peter tilted his head up, but didn’t move it from where it was resting. “I just don’t believe it, is all.”

“Which part?”

“That you want to keep me.”

“I do,” Tony assured him. “It actually makes my insides hurt when I think about someone else getting to raise you.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, wow…” Tony echoed. “Besides,” he added. “You can stick to walls and lift a million pounds. I certainly can’t trust anyone else to be your dad. They might turn you into a super villain, or something.”

“All the super villains are _doctors_ ,” Peter pointed out. “If I don’t be a doctor, then I won’t be a villain, right?”

It was hard to argue with the logic of an eight-year-old, Tony knew.

“Well, I’ll feel better if I’m near at hand, to keep you out of trouble,” Stark told him, not bothering to correct the grammar, either. “Are you okay sitting with me? If you want to get up, you can. I know you have a ton of new toys to try out – and that model isn’t going to build itself.”

“I like it here…” Peter told him, contentedly. “When are you going to call Pepper and tell her?”

“Pretty soon. I’m pretty comfortable, right now, and it’s still early, yet.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Besides, we kept her up pretty late, last night, so she might have slept in.”

“Oh.”

“I was thinking that we should do something to celebrate,” Tony said. “Once it’s official. The adoption, I mean.”

“Have a cake?”

“Right. Something like that,” he agreed. “Only bigger.”

“A _bigger_ cake?”

Tony rolled his eyes, amused.

“A bigger _celebration_. Maybe a trip?”

“To the zoo?”

He smiled, even though Peter couldn’t see it.

“You’re not thinking big enough, buddy,” he chided, gently. Of course, Peter wasn't used to the idea of having anything he wanted – any time that he wanted it. He would, though, if Tony had his way. “I was thinking someplace warm. And fun. Someplace you’d enjoy – even more than the zoo.”

“Where?”

“Disneyland? Disneyworld? Something like that?”

Peter sat up a little, and shifted, his bony knee digging into the muscle of Tony’s thigh. His eyes were wide, though.

“Really?”

“Why not? Have you ever been?”

“No.”

“Well, we’ll talk about it a little more once the dust settles.”

“Okay.”

“Which doesn’t mean we _have_ to go there,” Tony added, shifting to move Peter’s knee from his leg. He didn’t weigh much but that was the pointiest knee he’d ever felt. “You get to make decisions, too. I don’t expect you to just go along with everything I tell you – unless it’s something you like, too. Yeah?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Good.”

The boy flopped back against Tony’s chest, again, resuming the spot that he definitely preferred, and closed his eyes when he felt the billionaire put his arms around him to hold him there. They were silent, again, for another short while, and Peter relaxed so much that he was almost asleep when he spoke, next.

“Tony…?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can I be Peter Stark?”

Tony smiled, even though Peter didn’t see it, but the boy felt the fingers sifting through his hair.

“I’d like that, Peter.”

“Peter Stark…”

“Peter _Benjamin_ Stark,” Tony added.

“You know my middle name?” Peter asked, sleepily surprised.

“Of course, I do.”

“Wow.”

<><><><><>

Peter dozed in Tony’s arms for the better part of an hour.

Stark didn’t mind; he was comfortable, and wanted to spend some quiet time with the child. It was fine to have the avengers over spending time with himself and Peter – they were a team, after all, and it was important that they didn’t only spend time together when there was a crisis – and Pepper was always good company (when she wasn't annoyed with him) but he wanted some down time with Peter, alone, just then. The boy needed time to allow what was happening to sink in, and really, _Tony_ did, too.

A little peace and quiet was a good way to start things. And a fine way to pass Christmas morning, as far as he was concerned. Better than nursing a hangover, for certain, and he’d done that on more than one occasion.

Eventually, Peter roused, and with a cheerful tousling of his hair, Tony sent him off to his room to get dressed. They had a couple of gifts to take over to the Tatro’s, after all, and Tony thought that maybe he and Peter could go find something for lunch. Breakfast had been eaten, quickly, after all.

To tide himself over, he grabbed a couple of granola bars, and left a banana and one of the granola bars on the island for Peter. Then he went to take a shower. When he came out of his room dressed, now, in jeans and a sweatshirt, Peter was in the kitchen at the island, playing with the Lego DC characters and the Hot Wheels.

The banana peel and granola bar wrapper were proof that the boy had found his snack.

“Ready?” Tony asked, walking over and picking up a racecar and then rolling it across the countertop to crash with a satisfying thump against the wrapped gift basket that they were going to take to Eric and his wife. It had several packages of candies, crackers, cheeses, and meats, but Tony had also interspersed these mundane items with several gift cards to grocery stores, electronic stores, and the mall. Totaling several thousand dollars, it was a way for Tony to thank the man and his wife for being so kind to Peter – and also to assist them with taking care of the next boys that would inevitably come into their home and need love and support. “I don’t want to be out too late. Especially if it gets busy.”

Peter nodded, tucking Batman into his pocket and hopping down off his chair.

“Yeah.”

Tony noticed, of course, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn't going to let it slide, though. Peter was – of course – going to be allowed to _play_ with Lego Batman, but Tony had no intention of letting Bruce Wayne be Peter’s go-to superhero. The Lego Ironman was in Peter’s backpack, now, in a place of honor, but Tony rather liked the idea of Peter putting _it_ in his pocket to carry around if he needed to.

“Let’s go, then. I’ll call Pepper on the way.”

“Okay.”

They grabbed up their gifts, their coats and Tony settled a warm hat on Peter’s head and then they left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still some tale left to tell on this, as long as it remains interesting to you guys. (Seriously, I love writing fluff and could do it all day)


	55. 55

“You’re adopting him?”

Tony nodded, taking a sip of the coffee that Eric had offered him, and watching as Peter played with Ned under the watchful eye of Eric’s wife, who was in the living room helping a couple of the other boys assemble what looked like a Lego Empire Strikes Back fighter.

“The papers are already signed,” he confirmed. “I’ve been advised not to make any public announcement, right away, to give Peter a chance to adjust to the idea before he gets thrown into the spotlight of the press and paparazzi that comes with being associated with me. So don’t spread it around, please.”

“Of course.”

Pepper had been pleased when Tony had called her with the news that Peter had said yes, and she’d been the first to congratulate them both – even though it was just over the phone. She’d been the one to suggest keeping the news low-key, for now, and Peter had agreed not to tell anyone. Except the avengers, of course. He wanted to let them know.

Pepper had ended the call, saying that she’d find a judge to approve the papers that very day, and that she’d let Tony know where he needed to be – and _when_. By then, they were pulling up to the Tatro’s and it had been enjoyable for Tony to watch Peter greeting Eric and his wife and handing over the gift basket that practically dwarfed the little boy.

Since they didn’t have anywhere that they needed to be – just yet – Tony had accepted the offer of a cup of coffee and another snack to tide he and Peter over for a while.

“Anything you think I should know?” Tony asked, only half joking. “I don’t have any experience with the dad thing.”

Eric smiled, gesturing with his free hand toward the boy in the living room.

“He’s _happy_ ,” the big man pointed out. “That’s the goal. You just keep doing whatever it takes to make that happen. Peter’s pretty level-headed for someone who’s had the rough time that he’s had. Most of that is that his mom and dad did a good job giving him a good start on life. Your job will be to finish where they left off, really.” He shrugged. “You’re already proving that you’re willing to spend time with him. That’s important. Play catch with him, take him to the park. Maybe sign him up for T-ball in the summer, or something, so he can learn team dynamics.”

Tony nodded, taking mental notes. The guy knew a lot more about young boys than he did, after all.

“That’s a-“ he was interrupted by a call, and apologized as he took it. A minute later, though, he was smiling as he put his phone away. “We have a date with a judge,” he told Eric. “I’m afraid we need to cut our visit short.”

Eric smiled, too, and offered Tony his hand.

“You have my number, if there’s anything I can do.”

Tony shook it.

“Likewise. If _you_ ever need anything…”

“Call Peter’s billionaire superhero dad,” Eric finished. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Stark smirked, and the two men went into the living room to allow Peter a chance to say his goodbyes before Tony hustled him back out into the car.

><<><><><

The judge didn’t look like any of the judges that Peter had seen in the movies. He was about Tony’s age, probably, and wasn't wearing a black gown, and he wasn't holding a gavel. He was wearing jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and boots that were well worn in and warm. The man smiled when Peter and Tony walked into his office, and Peter saw Pepper standing next to a desk that had a few chairs around it.

“Mr. Stark,” he said, offering Tony his hand. “I’m glad to meet you.”

“Judge Rhyme,” Tony knew who he was, of course, since Pepper had briefed him on his way to the man’s office. “Thank you so much for being willing to see us, today.”

The man nodded, smiling down at Peter, who was shyly peeking out from behind Tony’s leg.

“I’m glad to do it. Hello, Peter.”

“Hi.”

Tony smiled, too, and brought his hand to Peter’s shoulder.

“Come on out, buddy,” he said, amused. “He’s a friend.”

Peter did as he was told, but he kept his arm around Tony’s leg, anchoring himself to the man for the support and reassurance that the touch provided.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” the judge asked the boy, kindly.

“Yes. I got a Lego _Batman_.”

“Wow. _With_ the Batmobile?”

Peter smiled, nodding.

“ _And_ a Batcave, but I have to build it, still.”

“That’s amazing.” It was clear he was used to dealing with intimidated children and putting them at ease. Tony was impressed. “Come sit down for a minute.”

Peter did as he was told, climbing into the chair that was offered to him and watching as the judge walked behind his desk and sat down, too.

“Mr. Stark wants to adopt you, Peter.”

“Yeah.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“Do you understand what that means?”

“He doesn’t want to be my foster dad. He wants to be my real dad, instead.”

“Right. What do you think about that?”

“I like it.”

“Yeah?” The judge smiled. “Do you think you’d like to live with him, permanently?”

“More than anything.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He glanced at Tony and then back to the boy he was interrogating. “What did you have for breakfast, this morning?”

“Bacon and egg sandwiches. And orange juice.”

“Before or after you opened presents?”

“Before.”

The judge’s expression was amused.

“Good to hear.” He looked at Pepper, expectantly. “You have the papers?”

“I do.”

She’d been closer to Tony’s and had stopped by his apartment to pick them up before coming to the meeting. Reaching into a bag, she handed over the manilla envelope and they all watched as the judge pulled the papers out and looked them over, carefully.

“I signed it, too,” Peter said, helpfully.

“I _see_ that.” Pepper had added the special paper that had been made just for Peter to have a chance to be a part of the process, and the judge looked it over, recognizing it for what it was, immediately. “Your signature is _much_ neater than Mr. Stark’s.”

Peter beamed, looking over at Tony, who winked at him.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The other man pulled a pen from a holder on his desk and signed three of the papers, and then put them all back in the envelope. “Alright,” he said, standing up. “He’s yours, Mr. Stark.”

“Just like that?” Tony asked, surprised.

He’d honestly thought there’d be a lot of questions for him. A way to make Tony prove that he was capable of taking care of a small human before the judge actually turned Peter over to him, officially.

The judge smiled.

“Just like that. He seems willing, and he’s been in your care for a while, now, and he’s still alive. You obviously know that he needs to eat regular meals and wear warm clothes. That and the fact that he hid behind you when meeting me tells me all I need to know. Congratulations. He’s a cute little guy. I’m sure you two are going to be great together.”

Tony’s answering smile was pleased, and he offered the man his hand.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s standard for my office to file the papers, which will then be a matter of public record, but I’ll instruct my staff to keep it to themselves. There might be a tabloid that has people monitoring these activities, but no one will find out from us.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I’d offer to take you all out to celebrate, but my wife expects me home by dinner.”

“We appreciate your time, James,” Pepper said. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He turned to Peter. “It was good to meet you, Peter.”

“Thanks.”

><><><><><>

“What are _you_ doing for dinner?” Tony asked Pepper a few minutes later when they were in the mostly deserted parking garage.

“I’m meeting a couple of friends.” She was pleased by the question, though, because she knew that had she said she didn’t have anything interesting planned, Tony would have invited her to eat with them. “What are you two doing?”

“We’re going to go home and I’m going to heat up leftovers from last night.”

“And there’s a lot of trash to pick up,” Peter added.

They’d left plenty of wrapping paper on the floor, especially around the piano.

“Are you coming in, tomorrow?” Pepper asked Tony.

“Do I _need_ to?”

The tower was going to be open, of course, but there wasn't going to be much work being done, Tony knew. Technically the holiday wasn't over until the new year.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” she replied. “There are several things that you’re going to need to take care of – for Peter, I mean. I’ll get the list made up sometime in the morning. If you come in after lunch and make a half day out of it, we can get everything done.”

“I’ll be there at one,” he promised. “Thank you for everything.”

She smiled at that.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you, tomorrow.”

She hugged Peter (because he was too cute not to) and they watched as she got into her car and drove off.

Tony looked down at Peter.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

“So am I. Let’s go home.”

“Okay.”


	56. 56

Since neither had eaten a real meal since breakfast, they were hungry. Peter picked up the remaining wrapping paper on the floor while Tony heated up leftover ham, potatoes and then opened a can of green beans to round it out. Rolls heated in the oven added a little more to the meal and Peter watched with interest as Tony put loaded plates onto the table and a glass of milk beside Peter’s place.

“We need to make a few decisions,” the billionaire told the child after they’d seated themselves to eat.

“About what?” Peter asked, stuffing a roll into his mouth, hungrily.

“Chew that,” Tony told him, immediately beset with visions of the little guy choking. “And don’t take such big bites, okay?”

Peter nodded, chewing happily, but before Tony could continue the conversation, JARVIS interrupted.

_“Call from Natasha Romanoff.”_

“Connect call,” Tony said, simply speaking into the air. The good thing about having the technical capabilities that he had in his apartment. An advantage to JARVIS running it all. “Agent Romanoff?” he said by way of greeting. “Merry Christmas.”

“ _Merry Christmas,”_ came Natasha’s voice, cheerful enough that Peter smiled. _“What are you guys up to?”_

“We are having dinner,” Tony told her. “Was Santa kind to you?”

_“I found a necklace that will go amazingly well with the dress Peter got me.”_

“Nice.”

_“Are you working, next week?”_

She wasn't one for small talk, Tony knew.

“I have some things to take care of at the tower,” he confirmed. “Tomorrow, at least – maybe something on Tuesday, I’m not sure. Why do you ask?”

_“Because we want to show Peter his new ball pit.”_

“You mean Peter _Stark_?” Tony asked, winking at the boy. “My _son_?”

There was a startled pause – even though she knew that he’d been planning to ask. She hadn’t known about the name change, after all – or that it might happen so quickly.

_“You did it?”_ she asked, somehow managing to sound awed, shocked and cheerful all in the same question _. “You asked?”_

“I _did_ ,” Tony confirmed, winking at the boy, who smiled. “And Peter said yes. Pepper had us in front of a judge faster than I’d have thought possible, and he signed off on it. The details are one of the things that I’ll be taking care of, tomorrow.”

_“Congratulations to you both.”_

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Peter added, roll finally swallowed.

_“Peter?”_ Natasha said, and now she was addressing the boy. _“Want to come to the compound, tomorrow instead of hanging out at daycare while Tony’s working?”_

The boy looked at Tony, hopefully, and Stark nodded.

“Yes. Please.”

_“Good.”_

“Do you want me to bring him up?” Tony offered.

_“Nope. Someone will come get him.”_

“Someone I _know_ ,” Tony clarified. “I’m not handing him over to a stranger.”

_“It’ll be me, or Steve,”_ she confirmed. _“Pack for an overnight, sweetheart,”_ Natasha said, again talking to the boy – at least Tony assumed that she was. _“That way if we talk Tony into letting us keep you, you’ll have something to sleep in.”_

“Okay.”

“We’ll come get him early,” Romanoff added. _“By eight, or so.”_

“He’ll be ready.”

She signed off and Tony smiled at Peter.

“I think Natasha might have a bit of a crush on you.”

Peter smiled.

“What did you mean when you said we needed to decide some things…?” Peter asked, curiously.

“I was going to say that you needed to decide if you wanted to hang out with me in my office, or go to daycare, tomorrow, but that isn’t a question, now.”

“Oh.”

“Another decision was what do we want to do this week,” Tony added. “Aside from spending time with the others at the compound, I want to spend some time with you – just the two of us. We could go somewhere, or we can hang out here, if you prefer. But we can worry about that, later.” Their dinner was getting cold, after all. “Eat.”

Peter did as he was told, willingly, turning his attention to his meal. He was hungry, and was a little numb, too. It had all happened so quickly, really. Christmas eve, he was a foster kid, and Christmas day, he was Peter _Stark_. At least he would be when all of the name change documents were filled out. He shivered, a mixture of anticipation, and eagerness, as well as hope and awe. He would look over at Tony, occasionally, as he made his way through his meal, and every now and then Tony would glance over at him, too, and smile.

“You could stay overnight at the compound,” he finally told the boy, when they were almost finished eating. “If you want.”

“Are you coming?”

“Yes. I’ll put my suit on and fly out. That way I’m not home all by myself, tomorrow night. I’m used to having you around, after all. I’d miss you.”

“Can I watch?”

“Watch what?”

“You fly in the suit. I saw it, once, at the expo, and that time at the compound, but it’d still be neat.”

“Yeah. Of course.” Tony smiled. “You’ll see it often, I imagine. So many times, it’ll be boring.”

“Is it boring for you?” Peter asked.

“Nope. I get a thrill every time.”

“Me, too.”

Tony shook his head, and then stood up.

“Are you done?”

“Yeah.”

“Still hungry?”

“No.”

“Want dessert?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. We’re not going anywhere else, tonight. Why don’t you get changed for bed, and we’ll try out some of the new toys Santa brought you.”

Peter hesitated.

“Can I play your piano?”

“It’s not my piano, buddy,” Tony told him. “it’s _ours_. And yes, you can play it whenever you want – as long as it isn’t the middle of the night when you’re supposed to be asleep.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Go get changed, okay? I’ll clean up the dishes and meet you there.”

“Okay.”

He cleared the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher and was wiping the counters down when Peter came out of his bedroom wearing a new pair of pajamas that Tony had bought him. They were basically sweats and a long-sleeved sweatshirt and were soft and warm; designed for cold winter nights. They were also Ironman themed. Peter also had slippers on, but they were Captain America themed and the gold and red of the pajamas clashed a little with the red, white and blue shields on the slippers.

“Looking good,” Tony said, as he walked over and joined the boy at the piano. “Weren’t there Ironman slippers to go with those pajamas?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t expound on why he hadn’t bothered to match the slippers with the outfit, and Tony just shrugged and sat down, watching as Peter climbed onto the piano bench beside him. “This is a pretty piano. I like it.”

“It looks the one my mom taught me to play on,” Tony agreed, running his fingertips along the smooth finish.

“You know how to play?” Peter asked, impressed.

The guy was a superhero _and_ he could play piano. Was there anything that he couldn’t do?

“I haven’t played in a long time,” Tony told him. “But, yes. There was a time when I would have said I was pretty good.”

Of course, he’d never in his life ever have admitted to being mediocre at anything.

“Wow.”

“Don’t sound too amazed,” Tony told him. “It’s been a while. I might suck.”


	57. 57

They had a good time.

Tony hadn’t played in a while, but he had been formally trained by his mother, who had been a perfectionist in everything that she did. He could read music, easily, and there were a few songs included with the instrument. Once the rust had been shaken off, he was good, and his fingers flew across the keyboard, the notes coming to mind as if he were back in his youth sitting beside her. Peter was littler, of course, and had only been playing a few years. He’d learned before his parents had died, and when he’d moved in with May, the lessons had stopped. Obviously when he’d been placed into foster care they hadn’t been started up – although Eric had promised that if there was time he’d see about making it happen, again.

He had a good ear, though, and as Tony played something, the little boy would repeat it. Or, even better, would play around the tune the billionaire was playing. They both enjoyed the time – it was a reminder of their mothers, and a time when each had a simpler life. It was also a good chance for them to bond over something that wasn't _superhero_ related.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Tony told the boy when he finally called a halt.

His fingers were sore.

Peter blushed with pleasure.

“You are, too. It was fun.”

“Yeah, it was,” Stark agreed. He was surprised when he looked at the clock and realized how late it was. “We should probably get you to bed. Especially if we have to make sure you’re up and ready to go by eight o’clock.”

“I’m not sleepy,” Peter told him.

“No?”

The boy smiled and shook his head.

“No.”

Tony got to his feet and pulled Peter up into his arms.

“JARVIS? Do we have any knockout gas?”

_“We are out.”_

“How about a big rock?”

Peter giggled, holding Tony as the billionaire carried him into his bedroom.

“You can’t use a rock,” he chided. “Pepper and Natasha wouldn’t like that.”

“How about we settle you in bed and I read to you?”

“I know how to read…”

“But it’s a _dad_ thing,” Tony pointed it out. “And I’ve never had a reason to do it, before. Now I do. Please?”

Peter nodded.

“Okay.”

Tony put him into his bed, covering him up, warmly, and then went to the bookshelf.

“Harry Potter?”

“No.”

“Lord of the Rings?”

“No.”

“Advanced calculous?”

“As a _bedtime story_?”

Stark shrugged, looking back at the shelf.

“How about Charlotte’s Web?”

“What’s it about?”

“A pig and a spider.”

“You read it?”

“That’s what’s on the cover.”

“Oh.” The boy shrugged. “Okay.”

Tony carried the book over to the bed and sidled up beside the boy. He felt warm and gooey inside when Peter shifted so that he could put his head on Tony’s stomach. That way he could look at the book, but still be comfortable – and close.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Comfy?”

Peter nodded, and surprised himself by yawning.

“Yeah.” He looked up at the man, though. “Tony?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“You told Natasha I was your son, now.”

“Because you are.”

“But not _really_.”

“In every way that matters.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” He put an arm around Peter – the one that didn’t have the book in that hand – and hugged him close. “It’ll take some getting use to, I know. For both of us. But I’m going to treat you like you’re my son, and eventually, maybe you’ll believe it.”

“And I can treat you like you’re my dad?”

“Yeah. Of course. I mean, you can’t start being _rebellious_ , though. You have to give me at least a few years before you start getting angsty and obnoxious.”

Peter smiled at that.

“I’m not going to do that.”

“We’ll see. JARVIS? Save a recording of what Peter just said to archival files. Label it appropriately, and then remind me it’s there when Peter turns thirteen.”

“Noted.”

The boy giggled, and then sighed.

“I’m glad you’re going to be my dad.”

“Not _going to be_ ,” Tony corrected him. “ _Am_ your dad. _Are_ your dad. _Is_?” He scowled. “I am your father…”

Peter was movie nerd enough to catch the reference.

“Nooooooo!”

Tony chuckled at that, and hugged him.

“Now that we have that settled, pipe down, close your eyes and listen to me read to you.”

“Okay.”

Stark licked his finger and opened the book to the first page. Then he stuck that wet finger in Peter’s ear, making the boy squirm. Grinning, he used the Ironman pajamas to dry him, and set to reading.

Peter made it through the first chapter and a half before the day caught up to him and he fell asleep. Tony didn’t notice, immediately, and then, when he did, he continued to read a little more – just to make sure. He carefully set the book on the stand next to the boy’s bed and pulled away, situating him and then covering him, warmly.

He leaned over, brushed a kiss against Peter’s forehead and then left, closing the door behind him.

“Let me know if he wakes up, JARVIS.”

_“Yes, sir.”_

Tony went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee and then turned on his tablet.

There was always research to do, and he wasn't ready to sleep, yet.

“JARVIS. Bring up all the footage we have of Peter’s skills, will you? The weird skills,” he added. Peter had a lot of skills, after all. “Sticking to the walls and the strength thing.”

He hadn’t forgotten the boy’s abilities, but they had been put on the back burner in favor of the holidays, the Santa thing and – even better – the adoption thing. Now, though, he wanted to go over those talents, again, at his leisure. Just to see if he and his AI could figure out a way to help Peter learn to use them.

The strength thing wasn't complicated, but the sticking to everything definitely was.

As he watched the videos, over and over, though, the only thing he could think of to figure that out was to experiment. Not on Peter, he told himself. But with him. Maybe help him learn how to unstick himself. He wondered it was mental, or if it was something that the boy wouldn’t be able to control. Did it work through a lot of layers? He’d had shoes on and stuck to the wall, but maybe it had all been his hands, using his strength to hold him up,

“JARVIS? Extrapolate all data you have observing Peter – in his daily life as well as when the odd things have happened. See if you can see any comparisons to any particular insect. If we can figure out what bit him, maybe we’ll get a better idea of what we can expect as he gets older.”

_“Very good, sir.”_


	58. 58

“You guys look tired…”

Peter smiled at Natasha, but didn’t deny it. He _felt_ tired, even though he’d slept through the night. When he’d woken the next morning, it had been because Tony was shaking his shoulder, gently, and telling him that they needed to get up and get him fed so he’d be ready when whoever it was that was coming for him got there.

He actually found himself wanting to go back to sleep, and Tony had chuckled at the sleepiness, and cajoled him, gently, until Peter had finally rolled out of his warm, comfortable bed and gone to get changed.

“I’m exhausted,” Tony confirmed, rubbing his face, tiredly. “I stayed up too late, last night – and then got up too early this morning.”

“You’re supposed to be taking better care of yourself, Stark,” she chided. “You’re a poppa, now.”

Peter smiled at that, especially when she winked at him as she said it.

“I’m working on it,” Tony assured her.

“Did he eat?”

“Cereal and a banana. Make sure he eats a big lunch. And call if he needs anything.”

Natasha picked up Peter’s backpack, and then scooped the little boy up into her arms, cheerfully.

“If he needs anything, then we’ll get it for him. No sense in bothering the old man, now is there?”

Tony rolled his eyes, amused and secretly loving the various ways she was referring to him as Peter’s dad. It was exactly what he wanted. Hopefully it would get Peter used to the idea. And maybe help _Tony_ get used to it, too.

“What old man?” Peter asked, curiously, resting his cheek on Natasha’s shoulder.

“I’ll explain on the way to the compound,” she promised. “Do you have everything you need?”

He nodded, and turned to Tony.

“You’re coming, tonight?”

“As soon as I’m done at the tower, I’ll suit up and be there before you even notice I was gone.”

“Okay.” Tony put his hand on Peter’s head. “Have fun.”

“I will.”

“He will, Tony,” Romanoff assured him. “We tricked the gym out, just for him.”

“Keep him out of trouble.”

“Will do,” He watched them head for the elevator and then closed the door and went to get a shower.

><><><><>

“Is there really a ball pit at the compound?” Peter asked, excitedly.

Natasha nodded, looking at the little boy who was sitting in the seat beside her. Like Tony’s sportscar, Natasha’s car was only two seats, so putting him in the back wasn't an option. She’d looked up how to make sure a small guy like Peter was as safe as he could be, and had made sure that he buckled in before they’d left the apartment building.

“Sam got you one, but when he and Steve put it together, it turned out to be a piece of junk, so Nick suggested that we get you a different one. A _bigger_ one.”

“Wow.”

She smiled at that.

“Are you hungry? Do I need to stop anywhere and get you something more filling for breakfast?”

“I’m okay.”

He was silent, then, watching the buildings as they drove through the busy streets. Natasha turned up the heat in the car to make sure that he was comfortable.

“Tell me about Christmas,” she said. “How did Tony bring up the adoption thing with you?”

Peter had an excellent memory, and it had been important to him, so she heard everything as they drove out of the city and onto the highway that went north to the compound. From Tony asking him, to the trip to the judge’s office to sign the papers. Peter even told her about Tony mentioning that they might go to Disneyland, or something. She listened, making appropriate noises at all the right times, and smiled at the mention of the trip.

“That would be fun. Have you ever been?”

“Nope. I know Clint has been, but it’s one of those places that you don’t really go as an adult – unless you have a little kid to take with you.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s for kids, really. The adults have fun watching the kids have fun.”

“That doesn’t sound fair.” He was silent for a few miles. “Maybe we could go someplace that Tony will like, too.”

“I bet he’d have a good time watching you at Disney.”

“We could go someplace _he’d_ enjoy,” Peter said, stubbornly. “Then I could watch him have fun.”

Since the boy was much too young to be in a strip club, Romanoff wisely didn’t reply to that. Instead she smiled.

“That sounds like something the two of you will need to discuss a bit,” she told him, amused.

“Yeah.”

Peter turned the tables on her, then, and started asking her what kind of places she would like, and then began interrogating her about what she and the others had done for Christmas day. It was a good way to spend a normally boring drive, and by the time she pulled her car up to the compound, Peter knew everything she could think of to tell him about their day.

With the roads being wet, although they weren’t slick, she hadn’t driven even close to as fast as she might normally have, but a call ahead made sure that there was someone at the entrance to meet them when they stopped at the main entrance.

“Peter!” Clint was the one to open his door, but it was Sam who unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled him out of the car. “How are you doing?”

“Good.” The boy grinned at being handled like a bag of flour, and he smiled at Barton. “Hi, Clint.”

“Hey. Did you have a good Christmas?”

“It was great.”

“Tell them why,” Natasha suggested, getting out from behind the wheel and closing her door.

“Tony adopted me,” Peter told both men, his arm around Sam’s neck, but his body turned so he could see their reactions.

“No!” Sam’s eyes went wider, and Natasha was forced to suppress her amusement at the slightly over the top reaction. “He did?”

“Wait. _Adopted_?” Clint echoed, genuinely surprised. “It already happened?”

“Yesterday,” Romanoff confirmed. “Keep up, Clint. You’re talking to Peter _Stark_.”

“You’re going to take Stark’s name?” Sam asked.

Peter nodded.

“He said I can.”

“Of course you can,” Natasha told him, opening the back of her car and pulling out Peter’s backpack. “Before you know it, it’ll feel like second nature to be called that.”

“Whoa.”

“C’mon, Peter,” Natasha said, amused at the men’s reactions. “We’re going to put you in the same room that you stayed in last time.”

“Okay.”

He followed Natasha, who was leading them into the building, but Sam and Clint stayed at either side of him.

“We’re going to make it your official room,” Sam told him, looking cheerful. “So you have a place near Tony when you guys are out here.”

“Which better be _often_ ,” Romanoff said, looking over her shoulder at him.

“I hope so.”

He was hurrying to keep up with the pace that she was setting, so he couldn’t hug himself, but he was so excited to be back there. And the idea that he might be there more than just a couple times was almost enough to take his breath away. Clint reached down and swept him up into his strong arms.

“Nat, slow down. Peter has little legs, you long-legged freak.”

Of course, the archer hadn’t missed that Peter was falling behind.

She rolled her eyes, but did slow up, a little, and reached out and tweaked Peter’s nose, making him giggle.

“Sorry.”

“I like your legs,” he assured her.

“Ugh,” the assassin complained. “If only you were twenty or thirty years older…”

The two men chuckled, but Peter frowned.

“Why?”


	59. 59

She smiled, and handed his bag to Sam so she could steal him from Clint.

“Because then I’d probably have to _kiss_ you,” she teased, pressing her lips against his cheek and blowing a raspberry that made him giggle and squirm – and almost fall out of her arms.

His grip was strong, though, and he allowed himself to hang upside down for a moment, before she up-righted him.

“We modified the room for you,” Sam told him. “Clint helped – since he’s the only one of us that knows diddly shi- _stuff_ – about little kids. But since it’s going to be your room, then it should be more comfortable than just a bed and a stand.”

They had reached the door, and Clint opened it for them, and Peter’s eyes grew wide.

“Wow.”

When he’d been there, before, the room had been an austere white, with a bed, stand and a small dresser. Now the walls were freshly painted blue. The bed was the same one as before, presumably, but the bedspread was red, white, and blue with Captain America shields as the repeating pattern. It was also the color of the pillowcases. There was still a stand by the bed, but now it had an Ironman lamp on it, and there was a small bookcase in the corner that held a bucket of Lego blocks, some toy cars and trucks and a few books.

“Do you like it?” Natasha asked, setting him on the bed.

“It’s great,” Peter assured her.

“Steve chose the bedding,” Sam said, unnecessarily. “But we guessed on the rest of it.”

“I like it.”

“You like _that_ ,” Sam said, smirking. “Wait until you see what else we did.”

“The ball pit?” Peter asked.

“That and a bit more.”

“Let’s go see,” Natasha said, looking pleased at his reaction.

They helped the boy get his coat off, since it wasn't cold in the compound at the moment, and then they walked – at Peter’s pace – to the gym.

The room was a large one, but now a corner by the bleachers was taken up by a large plastic mesh pen that was holding what had to be a million brightly colored balls. Peter ran over and looked at it, excited, and then looked up at the adults.

“What do I do?”

Clint rolled his eyes and picked the boy up. Then to Peter’s surprise, he tossed him into the pit. The balls were soft and gave way, and he yelped in happiness at the treatment. Under all of the many layers of balls, there was a foam bottom that cushioned the hardwood floor under the pit. Peter righted himself, and looked over – just in time to get hit in the head with a ball that Clint lobbed at him. The boy giggled and threw one back, and only the fact that the archer had amazing reflexes kept him from getting hit right between the eyes.

“Nice throw, little man.”

They watched as Peter waded through the balls, happily, sometimes ducking under them and ‘swimming’ through them, only to pop up elsewhere.

“Do you like it?” Natasha asked when she finally gestured for him to head back to them.

“It’s _neat_.” He smiled when Clint pulled him out – although there was also a ladder, he saw. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They looked over when Steve walked up, just then. The big man was dressed in a pair of jeans, thermal long-sleeved t-shirt that had the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and another shirt over it. He smiled when he greeted Peter.

“Hey, Pete. What did you think of your room?”

“I like it.”

“You like the bedspread?”

Peter smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Make sure you tell _Tony_ that, okay?”

“Okay.”

“One more thing to show you,” Steve told him, reaching over to pluck him from Barton’s grasp. “But we have to go outside to see it.”

“What is it?” Peter asked, curiously.

“You’ll see.”

They all walked with the two as Steve crossed the gym and headed for the double doors that led outside. Peter gasped when Rogers opened the door and carried him out, stopping at the edge of the field that it opened out onto.

“Wow…”

It was a playset. Made of wood, there was a fort on the top, with a slide, and a pole, and coming off from the side was a wooden beam that ended several yards away. The beam supported a couple of swings before it ended with two others that supported it, in turn. Peter saw a ladder that led to the slide and looked over at them.

“This is for me?”

“And _us_ ,” Natasha said, clearly pleased at his reaction. “Sometimes it’s fun to swing…”

They let him have a chance to play on the playset for a few minutes, but Barton pointed out that he didn’t have his coat on, so they shouldn’t be outside, too long.

Besides, it was lunch time.

><><><><><>

“Phone call for you.”

Peter looked uncertain when Natasha handed him her phone only a few minutes after he’d finished eating lunch with her and the others. He took it, though.

“Hello?”

_“Hey, buddy. How are you doing?”_

The boy smiled when he recognized Tony’s voice.

“Hi. Good. They have a ball pit, and a play set in the field, and I have a bedroom here, just like back at your apartment.”

Tony’s chuckle was amused; he was clearly pleased at how happy Peter sounded.

_“It’s our apartment,”_ he reminded the boy. _“Not just mine.”_

“Okay.”

_“You had lunch?”_

“Yes.”

_“And now you’re going to play outside?”_

Peter nodded, even though Tony couldn’t see it.

“On the play set. Steve built it.”

“I _helped_ ,” Sam added, rolling his eyes.

“Sam _helped_ ,” Peter added, dutifully.

_“I’m running a little behind, here, but I’ll be there before too long,”_ Tony told him. _“Have fun, okay?”_

“I will,” Peter assured him. “I _am_.”

_“Good. Let me talk to Natasha, again.”_

The boy handed the phone back to Natasha, who winked at him as she took it.

“He had soup and crackers and a piece of cake,” she said before Stark could ask. “And we’ll make sure he’s warmly bundled in his coat and mittens.” There was silence as she listened to whatever the reply was, and then she nodded. “We’ll see you, later.”

She ended the call, and looked at Peter.

“Ready to go play?”

He smiled.

“Yeah.”

><><><>><><

“That’s the damnedest thing…”

“Right…?” Natasha wasn't the only one to shake her head as they watched Peter hanging upside down from the bottom of the fort. Clint was standing next to him, hands just barely touching him – just in case – but it was clear that the child was in no danger of falling. He was literally sticking to the wooden surface – even with shoes and socks on. “He’s amazing.”

Steve nodded, even though he’d seen it before. He hadn’t even realized that he’d cursed – although Sam and Natasha both did, of course.

“Did Tony figure out how he does it?” he asked, as Clint pulled the boy free, easily, and then tossed him up into the air, making Peter squeal, happily. “Blood tests, or labs, or something?”

“You think something in his blood is going to explain that?” Wilson asked.

“There has to be _something_.”

“Tony’s not going to experiment on Peter,” Romanoff pointed out. “He’s still a _baby_ , practically.”

“A baby _spider_ ,” Sam said, shaking his head.

They’d all been out supervising Peter’s initial foray onto the playset, and they’d all been there when he’d inevitably missed a monkey bar and had dangled by one arm, precariously. Or so they’d thought. Even as Steve had lunged to catch him, Peter had simply reached up and caught the bar, again, easily. And then he’d brought his foot up and had released the grip on his hands – causing Rogers and the others another mini heart-attack.

The boy had laughed, his face turning bright red from being upside down, and Steve had reached up and pulled him off, only to have Peter scramble back to the ladder to climb to the slide, again, completely unaware of the sensation he’d caused in his eagerness to play.

When he’d begun to wear down a bit, the adults did their own experiments with him, not even letting on what they were doing when they tested the stickiness that he possessed against every surface of the playset. Wood, plastic, and metal, they were all the same to Peter. He simply stuck to wherever they put him until one of them helped him move to get free.

Then he’d run off to play, again.

“I wonder if it’ll increase as he gets older, or if he’ll lose the ability as time goes by,” Natasha said.

“It’s an interesting ability,” Steve said. “But if he can’t free himself, then it’s not one that will do him much good when he’s older.”

“It might just take some practice,” Sam told them. “He’s a _little_ guy. He doesn’t even know what he can do – much less _how_ to do it.”

“Plenty of-“

the conversation was cut short by a sudden streak of flames across the late afternoon sky, and Peter stopped what he was doing to look up – as did the others.

“Ah, Tony’s here…”

Sure enough, after giving them a chance to notice him – or maybe allowing the AI in his suit to mark where everyone was so he didn’t land on someone – Tony’s Ironman suit came to a landing in the snow covered grass near the playset, but far enough back to avoid scorching anything.

Or anyone.

“Tony!”

Peter thrilled at the superhero pose that the landing had left Tony in, but he jumped from the third rung of the ladder and ran over, stopping in front of the suit just as Tony straightened and retracted the metal to allow him to step out of it.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Wow!”

Stark couldn’t help but feel a little smug at the reaction.

“Liked that, did you?”

“It was great.”

He stepped forward, hopefully, and Tony picked him up, making Peter shiver with happiness.

“I missed you,” Tony told him, pressing his cheek against the boy's.

Peter beamed, feeling a different kind of thrill go through him at the words. It was heady stuff to be that important to someone else, after all.

“I missed you, too. Didja see the playset Steve built for me?”

“I did. It’s pretty impressive, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

The other adults walked over, having allowed Stark his chance to have a somewhat private greeting.

“Nice entrance,” Clint complimented.

“One does one’s best.”

“Are you done for the day?” Peter asked.

“I _am_. Are you guys done out here?”

Now that he was out of the Ironman suit, he was only wearing expensive suit that he’d worn at the tower that day. He didn’t need to pack anything, since he had clothes in his quarters at the compound, but it was getting chilly, and he didn’t want to hang out outside of he could avoid it.

“We were thinking that it’s getting close to dinner time,” Natasha said. She looked at Peter. “What do you think?”

He nodded.

“Yeah.”


	60. 60

The first indication that something might be off with Peter came after dinner. Lamenting that they didn’t get a real vacation, the others had to go and take care of things that had been on hold while they’d been spending time with Peter. Now that Tony was there, they could work on things they needed to do and not feel like they were abandoning the boy.

With a promise to see him in the morning, the others left them at the table, and Tony and Peter decided to watch a movie. Since it was only the two of them, however, they didn’t use the theater room. Instead, Tony had Peter get ready for bed, and then he went and changed into sweats and a t-shirt before joining the boy in his room.

He settled himself on Peter’s bed, and a moment later the boy nestled up beside him, comfortably.

“Ready?” Tony asked, reaching for the remote.

They didn’t have JARVIS in the room, yet, after all, so they had to push all the buttons themselves.

Peter sniffed, and then coughed, but nodded as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his pajamas.

“Yeah.”

“You okay, buddy?” Tony asked, looking for a tissue, or something better for Peter to use, but not finding anything.

“Yeah. I’m great.”

The boy rested his head against Tony’s side, and Stark hit play on the movie they were streaming, then set the remote aside and turned off the light.

Peter sniffed, again, and then fell silent as the movie started.

><><><><>

Tony wasn't too surprised that the boy fell asleep during the movie. He’d _expected_ it, really – one of the reasons that they’d watched it in Peter’s bed, after all. He surprised himself by dozing off, as well, however, and the credits were done rolling, and the screen was blue when he woke with a start.

The boy beside him was coughing, softly.

It wasn't normal. Tony had been around Peter a fair amount, now, and was familiar with the little noises that the child made when sleeping. A cough wasn't even close to being right. Feeling unsettled, he turned the light back on and looked at the boy.

Peter was asleep, despite the cough that had woken Tony, and he had his face tucked against the man’s side. Tony frowned, reaching a hand out and brushing his palm against the flushed little cheek, wondering if he felt warmer than normal, or if it was just because he’d been pressed up against him, sharing his body heat.

One way to find out. He reached over and put on the glasses that he’d set on the stand next to Peter’s beside when he’d joined him. He was never far away from those glasses, after all.

“JARVIS?” he asked, softly. “Check Peter for me. Is he fevered?”

“Temperature is elevated,” the AI confirmed. “However, it is well within normal range for children his age.”

“What does that mean?” Tony asked, noting the display in his glasses was reading Peter’s temperature at just above 100 degrees. “Is he sick, or not?”

He was over a hundred. That had to be bad. Right?

“Children range higher than adults, generally. Peter’s temperature is not high enough to be of a concern, on its own.”

“Do I call a doctor?”

Peter coughed, again, and Tony’s hand brushing against his cheek made him open his eyes to look up at him, sleepily.

“Tony?”

“Shhh… yeah. I’m here.”

“Is it time to get up?”

“No, buddy. Not yet. How do you feel?”

“Sleepy.”

“What else?”

“Just sleepy,” Peter told him, closing his eyes, again, and rolling onto his side. “Is the movie over?”

“Yeah. Do you feel sick?”

“What?”

“How do you feel?”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think so.” Even sleepy, though, he must have caught something in the billionaire’s voice, or his tone. He opened his eyes, again, and looked over his shoulder at him. “ _Am_ I?” he asked.

Realizing that he might be overreacting and that he also might be frightening Peter by doing it, Tony nodded, and smiled, bringing his hand down to brush Peter’s hair back from his forehead – which just happened to allow him the chance to check his temp the old fashioned way.

“Yeah, Peter. You’re fine. I’m going to let you go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

The boy closed his eyes and drifted off, but Tony didn’t leave, just yet.

><<><><><>

There were two full time surgeons on the staff at the compound. Both were specialized in trauma and both had over 30 years, each, of experience. Mostly military for one of them, and the other had been chief of a major urban hospital’s emergency room until the lure of working exclusively with SHIELD and the avengers brought him to the compound. They were competent, no nonsense, and very much aware that they could deal with anything that came their way.

And both scowled, mightily, when they were pulled from their beds by Tony Stark.

He met them in the corridor outside of Peter’s door, and told them what was going on. Neither man looked worried about what they were being told, and one cracked opened the door enough to look into the room at the little boy sleeping in the bed.

“What’s his temp?”

“One hundred.”

“That’s not a fever, Stark,” he was told. Proving that even if these men were used to working with adults, they both were well-rounded in their profession. “Little kids can go as high as a hundred and one – even more if they’re more active. Sleeping kids can be warm, too.”

“He coughed,” Tony added.

“And…?”

It was Stark’s turn to scowl.

“And he sniffed, once or twice.”

“Right. What else?”

“That’s it.”

“Then it isn’t something to be too concerned about. It’s probably just a cold.”

“Probably just a cold?” Tony echoed. “What do we do about it?”

“Keep him warm, let him sleep and make sure he gets a lot of fluids when he’s awake.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

Stark turned to the other doctor, clearly asking for a second opinion.

“He’s right. Kids catch colds. As long as his temp doesn’t go above one hundred-two, and he isn’t aching, hacking, and throwing up, the best thing for him is rest.”

“Maybe you should go check him out.”

“If I go in there and wake him up, it’s only going to freak him out, since he has no idea who I am. Then he won’t get back to sleep.”

“It’d freak _me_ out,” the other doctor agreed. “If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll swing by and check on him in the morning. Around breakfast.”

“Fine. Thank you.”

He clearly wasn't impressed, but the two weren’t going to let a nervous parent tell them how to do their jobs. Even as the two doctors walked away, shaking their heads, Tony saw Nick headed toward him, wearing sweats, a long-sleeved t-shirt and shoes with no socks. He’d clearly been either in bed, or ready for bed.

Fury nodded at the two doctors as he passed them, but his attention was on Stark.

“What’s up?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Someone pulls two trauma surgeons out of their beds, I’m going to get a call,” Nick explained. “What’s happening?”

“Peter has a fever.”

“Is it serious?”

“They don’t seem to think so,” Tony grumbled, gesturing at the retreating backs of the two surgeons. “They said it’s not high enough to be worried, and that he’s probably caught a cold.”

“They’re doctors.”

“They _adult_ doctors,” Tony corrected. “Maybe I need a little kid doctor. A pediatrician.”


	61. 61

“I’m pretty sure a pediatrician would say the same thing.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t look convinced. “I could call one in…”

Fury frowned.

“What did _our_ doctors say to do?”

“I’m supposed to make sure he gets rest, and fluids. One offered to check on him in the morning.”

“Well, then, why don’t we wait and see how things look in the morning?”

Tony wasn't really the wait and see kind of guy and he scowled at the thought of letting his little guy wallow in agony if it could be avoided.

“He could be worse by then.”

“Stay close, then, and monitor him,” Nick suggested. ‘If he looks like he’s getting worse, we’ll call in a specialist. Fair?”

“I could probably find one willing to come-“

“Tony.” It was almost amusing to see the man so worried, because it meant that he actually cared about something (or someone) enough to be concerned about them, but Fury didn’t want his compound invaded by civilian doctors. Not if it could be avoided. Civilians were a pain in the ass, as far as the SHIELD director was concerned. “Just wait and see. Trust me. If he’s worse in the morning, and our doctors think he needs a specialist, then we’ll call one in. I’ll even send the Quinjet for them.”

Stark hesitated, but finally nodded. Mainly because he didn’t want to be away from Peter long enough to continue the argument.

“Fine. We’ll see how he feels tomorrow.”

“Good. Need anything?”

“No. Thank you.”

Fury left Tony at the door to Peter’s room, but when he went to join Peter on his bed, again, Tony changed his mind and carefully gathered the sleeping form into his arms, picking him up, easily, and shushing him, softly, when he stirred.

“Tony?”

A soft sniff, and Stark rolled his eyes when he felt the boy wipe his nose on Tony’s neck.

“Go back to sleep, buddy,” he whispered. “I’m going to take you to my room, okay?”

“Why?”

The head never lifted from his shoulder, and the question was sleepy.

“Because JARVIS is in _my_ quarters, and he isn’t in _yours_.”

“Oh.”

The explanation wasn't very complete, but Peter fell asleep between his door and the one that opened to Tony’s room, so it clearly didn’t matter to the boy.

“JARVIS?” Tony said, softly, as he held Peter with one hand and pulled his blankets back. “Keep an eye on Peter’s temperature, tonight. If it goes above 102 degrees, alert me.”

_“Yes, sir.”_

Tony settled Peter beside him, covering him, warmly, and then making sure his own body heat would keep him warm, too, despite the worry of a fever. Peter mumbled something in his sleep, draped an arm over Tony’s side and was still, once more.

The billionaire, on the other hand, didn’t sleep. He turned off the lights, to keep from bothering Peter, but with the hand that wasn't pressed against Peter’s back, he reached for his tablet. He’d keep most of his focus on the sleeping child, of course, but he could easily multitask, and he was still working out some bugs in the newest suit.

Instead, though, he found himself looking up pediatricians in the area, and mentally beginning to rank them in order of who he would call first the moment he thought the need came up.

><><><><>

It was Peter who woke Tony the next morning, early.

He shifted in the bed as he woke, mumbled something, and then sat up, looking around.

Stark sat up, too, instantly alert.

“Hey, buddy. How do you feel?”

“Not too good,” Peter admitted, his voice hoarse, and looking at Tony woefully. “Where am I?”

“In my room.”

“Oh.”

“Lay back down, okay?” Tony suggested. “You’re fine, you just have a cold.”

“I feel hot.”

“I know. Does anything hurt?”

“My throat. A _little_.”

“I’ll see what we can do for that. Try to get some more sleep, okay? That’s what they said you need; sleep.”

Peter lay back against the pillow, but his eyes were wide open when he looked up at Tony.

“I’m not sleepy.”

“The doctors say you’re supposed to _sleep_ ,” Tony told him. “You try to stay still, and I’ll go find one and have them come check on you.”

“Okay.”

Tony pressed a kiss against that too warm forehead and got out of his bed.

“But don’t pee my bed,” he added with a smile. “You’re allowed to get up if you need to.”

Peter echoed his smile, sleepily.

“Okay.”

Stark had barely left his quarters when he was suddenly accosted by Romanoff in the corridor. He clutched his chest – only slightly dramatically, since she really _had_ startled him with her sudden appearance.

“Put a bell on, will you?” he complained.

She smirked, but her eyes were worried.

“Nick said Peter’s not feeling well?”

“Yeah. He’s hot, and his throat hurts. I’m going to go get one of the doctors to have him come check him out, now that it’s morning.”

“Can I go keep him company?”

“Of course.”

Like he was going to say no? She probably wouldn’t listen, anyway.

><><><><>

When he returned with a disgruntled looking surgeon walking behind him ten minutes later, Natasha was in his bed with Peter, crooning softly under her breath to the boy, who was cuddled in her lap, eyes closed and head tucked under her chin. She ran her fingers through Peter’s curls.

“Hey, honey, the doctor’s here to look you over.”

Peter sighed, but shifted, and Romanoff rolled out of Tony’s bed to make room. As she did, a couple of others walked into the room.

“Peter’s sick?” Steve asked, looking at the boy in the bed.

“Yes,” Tony said. “He’s fevered, has a sore throat, and he’s been sniffling all night.”

“Poor little guy,” Clint said, moving so he could watch as the surgeon Tony had dragged out of bed began examining the child. He smiled. “He _looks_ sick, doesn’t he?”

His face was flushed and his eyes were tired and a little red. As was his nose.

“He’s not too bad,” the doctor said, running his fingers, gently, along Peter’s jaw. “It’s just a cold.”

“From being outside, yesterday?” Tony asked.

Clint snorted before the doctor could reply.

“You don’t get a cold in a day, Tony. Not even a superkid like Peter, here. He’s in daycare, right? Probably picked something up there from one of the other kids, or maybe from school. It just takes a while to show up.”

The doctor nodded his agreement.

“He’s right.” Of course he was; he had his own kids and was already learning to deal with endless illnesses. “Nothing could have prevented it, really. Little kids get sick. Little _boys_ , especially, because they’re gross creatures at the best of times.”

Before the others could complain about anyone saying their precious little guy was gross, Clint nodded.

“I had to pull Cooper away from the cat’s litter box, one time. I thought my wife was going to throw up.”

“Eww.” Natasha had clearly not heard that story. “I’ve kissed him.”

“Cat poop lips,” Clint said, smirking.

Tony was watching the doctor and Peter.

“So? What do we do?” the billionaire asked. “Do I need to call in a specialist?”

“It’s a _cold_ ,” the doctor said. _Again_. “He doesn’t need a specialist. He doesn’t even really need a _doctor_. Just some rest, and fluids to keep him from getting dehydrated. We can get him something to knock back the fever and take care of the cough – which will help him sleep. He’ll feel better in a week, or so.”

Stark wanted to argue, but Clint was nodding his agreement with the doctor, and Tony trusted that the archer knew what he was talking about. He was just too competent with Peter to not be right.

“Do you have any of those things?” he asked, instead.

“No. We’re not set up for children, here. I’ll send someone to pick up-“

“Just make a list of what we’ll need,” Stark interrupted. “I’ll go get it.”

“Fine.”

Tony looked down at Peter, who had been listening to the conversation going on around him, but not really paying attention.

“Hey, buddy. I’m going to go get you something to help you feel better. Okay?”

Peter didn’t argue. He just nodded and closed his eyes.

“Want me to come with you?” Natasha asked.

“I’m going to take the suit. I’d appreciate it if you guys keep an eye on Peter.”

“We can do that,” Clint said, forcing himself to not react to the idea of the Ironman suit coming to a superhero landing in front of the nearest drug store, Tony Stark exiting it, and walking up to the counter to ask for some Children’s Tylenol. He’d have liked to see the clerk’s reaction to that. “You might get some vape-o-rub, too.”

The doctor nodded his agreement, handing Tony a piece of paper.

“It’s on the list.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

Tony brushed his fingers against Peter’s cheek and then he left.

“He’s really okay?” Natasha asked the doctor.

“He’s fine. Stark’s overreacting.”

Barton shrugged.

“He’s new at the dad thing,” he pointed out. “He’ll relax, more, when he’s had a chance to settle into the role.”

“I’ll be around,” the doctor told them, clearly ready to go back to bed.

“We’ll call if we need you,” Steve said, frowning down at Peter, who had fallen asleep.

“You aren’t going to need me,” he was assured.

He left and Natasha sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’ll stay with him until Tony gets back.”

“If he wakes up and wants anything call me,” Steve told her.

Clint shook his head, amused.

It was a good thing Peter was pretty level-headed, because the Avengers weren’t any better than Tony.

“I’m going back to bed.”

Little kids weren’t nearly as much fun when they were sick, after all. Clint knew that, already. The rest of them would soon find that out.


	62. 62

_"He’s sick?”_

Tony nodded, looking down at the little boy that he was holding. Peter was dozing in his lap, cheek pressed against Tony’s chest, giving an occasional sniff since his nose was running almost constantly. The front of his shirt was soaked with snot that was only getting smeared every time Peter shifted in his sleep, or in between naps.

The billionaire had returned to the compound with everything on the doctor’s list – as well as many things that he’d simply seen and thought might make the boy feel better. Then he had carefully read the directions and conferred with Natasha, Steve (and a grumbling surgeon, who had been pulled from his bed, once more) and had dosed Peter with some cold medicine. Telling him to go back to sleep didn’t work, though. Now that he was more awake and aware of just how miserable he felt, Peter had been clingy, and hadn’t been interested in any of the things that Tony showed him.

He wanted to be held. That was all. Nothing more.

So Tony held him.

Then, when he’d fallen asleep – which was inevitable, really, thanks to the cold medicine – Tony had left him to get some rest, only to have Peter come looking for him less than twenty minutes later. The boy hadn’t done more than leave his room before JARVIS alerted Tony what was going on. Since Tony hadn’t gone further than his bathroom to change and get a shower, intercepting the sleepy child wasn't a problem.

Tony had scooped him up, once more, but had simply carried him to the lounge so Peter wouldn’t need to ask where everyone was. Stark settled on a couch, settled Peter in his lap, covered him with a blanket and then, once he was quiet, had made a call to Pepper to let her know that he wasn't going to be coming in, that day.

Maybe for the rest of the week.

“He _is_ ,” Tony said.

“ _Did you call a doctor?”_ Pepper asked.

“They have a couple of surgeons that are permanently attached to the compound. I spoke with both of them, last night, and one checked Peter this morning. They say he’s caught a cold.”

_“What kind of surgeons?”_ she asked. “ _Do they specialize in children’s illnesses?”_

“They’re trauma surgeons.”

_“Do you need a pediatrician?”_

“They tell me I don’t.”

Some of the many things that he’d done the day before was to take care of all the little things required now that Peter was, officially, his. He was already the emergency contact for his school, but now the boy was put on his insurance, and there had been all kinds of forms to fill out.

Another thing needed was to find Peter a full-time, official, doctor, and dentist. They hadn’t found one, yet, though, because Tony was going to be picky about who he trusted to Peter’s care, and wasn't just going to pull a name out of a hat. He’d anticipated having a little more time to choose.

_“Anything I can do?”_

“Nah.” Tony smiled down at the child he was holding. “We might invest in a Kleenex distributer, though. I have a feeling we’re going to go through a lot of them, right now.”

She smiled, and as if on cue, Peter sniffed.

_“Give him a kiss for me.”_

“And get his germs?” Tony asked, pretending to be taken aback by the mere suggestion. “Are you trying to get _me_ sick, too?”

He leaned over, though, and brushed a kiss against the top of Peter’s head, feeling the warmth of the slight fever even through his curls.

Peter looked up, sleepily, at the touch, and Tony winked at him.

“Pepper says hi.”

The boy smiled at that, but closed his eyes, again.

“Hi, Pepper.”

Since it was a video call, she was able to see Peter, and even though the image wasn't completely vivid, she could see that he looked as miserable as he sounded.

Poor baby.

_“Get some sleep, Peter,”_ she told him. _“You’ll feel better.”_

“’kay…”

He dozed off, again, and Tony sat on the sofa talking to Pepper a few minutes more before she ended the call. Clint wandered over, crouching down to get a better look at Peter.

“Do you need a break?” he asked Tony. “I can hold him for a while.”

“Nah. Thanks. I’m good for now.”

Clint left to take care of his own responsibilities, and Tony leaned back a little more, getting comfortable without moving Peter any more than necessary. Then he closed his eyes and dozed off, too.

><><><><><>

Tony frowned, pressing the corner of the sandwich against Peter’s lips.

“You need to eat _something_.”

The boy turned his head, burying it in Stark’s shirt.

“I’m not _hungry_.”

Steve snorted, amused at seeing such a little guy thwart Tony Stark.

They were still on the couch, but it was well past lunch time, and Steve had brought Peter and Tony both something to eat. Tony had been appreciative, but Peter wasn't impressed, just then.

“It’s _chicken_. You like chicken.”

“No.”

The denial was muffled, but it was definitely a no.

“Peter… c’mon, now. You already skipped breakfast. Eat your sandwich and you can go back to sleep.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“What’s going on?” Natasha asked, walking over, holding a glass of iced tea.

“Peter won’t eat his lunch.”

“It isn’t something gross, is it?”

“It’s chicken and cheese. He likes it.”

“No, I don’t…” Peter muttered, wiping his face on Tony’s shirt, which already held evidence of several such occurrences. “I _hate_ it.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but Natasha smiled.

“Give him to me, Tony,” she said, handing Steve her glass and then holding her hands out for the boy.

“Good luck,” Stark said, setting the sandwich back on the plate, and then handing Peter over to her, blanket and all. “He’s _grumpy_.”

Romanoff nodded, cuddling Peter close as she sat down on the sofa between the two men.

“Are _you_ grumpy?” she asked the boy, putting a finger under his chin to make him look up at her.

“Yes.”

He pulled his head free and leaned into her, closing his eyes and holding her, loosely.

“Because you don’t feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Poor baby.” She shifted him in her embrace so she was still holding him, but now he didn’t have his face pressed so tightly against her. “You’re supposed to eat your lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Still need to eat, sweetheart. Otherwise I’ll be worried about you. You don’t want me to worry about you, do you?”

“No.”

“Just the sandwich…” she coaxed. “You don’t have to eat the chips or the carrots.”

Peter didn’t look convinced, but Natasha took the half of the sandwich that Tony had been trying to make the boy eat, and took a small bite of it, herself. She made an approving noise as she chewed it, and Tony rolled his eyes, well aware Peter was too smart to fall for something so obvious.

Steve snorted, amused, but they were both silent when Peter opened his mouth and allowed Natasha to feed him a bite of the sandwich.

“Seriously?”

“Hush, Tony,” Romanoff chided. “We’re having lunch.”

She took another bite of the sandwich before offering it to Peter. His next bite was bigger, and a little less grudging, and Tony and Steve watched as the two of them ate the entire sandwich, all of the carrots and a few chips before Peter turned his head at the offer of anything else. He sighed, mightily, coughed a couple times and then tucked his cheek back against Natasha’s breast and closed his eyes.

“Need me to take him back?” Tony asked, even as she arranged the blanket to tuck around Peter.

“No. You’ve had him all morning,” she replied. “Go find something to do and stop monopolizing the cuddles.”

She smiled, though; her expression plainly telling him that she was willing to give him a chance to get up and stretch his legs, as needed. He decided there was no sense in arguing with her. Possession being 9/10 ths of the law, and all.

“If you need me – or if he does – call.”

“We’ll be fine.”

He and Steve got up and left the two of them alone. Natasha smiled, again, amused and amazed to find herself in the position she was in. Then she leaned back to get more comfortable, and closed her eyes, too.


	63. 63

The week after Christmas leading up to New Years was a much busier one for Tony than he could have possibly anticipated. It was a lot busier for the Avengers at the compound, too.

Peter was sick. And they all watched as their sweet little ray of sunshine that was Peter Parker (soon to be Peter _Stark_ ) turned into a morose, miserable, snot producing machine right before their eyes. He had trouble sleeping because he didn’t feel good, and he didn’t want to eat, because he didn’t feel good. He didn’t want to blow his nose, because his _nose_ didn’t feel good, either.

All he _really_ wanted to do was sit in someone’s lap and be held.

They took it in stride, all things considered. Clint was the only one that had any experience with a sick child, but they were all intelligent adults, and there were enough of them that when one needed a break to go wash their neck of the drool or mucus that would run from Peter’s nose (and mouth, on the rare occasions that he slept) there was another to step up and offer the boy a lap to sit in and arms to hold him.

Tony was the preferred comforter, but at any time of the day, Peter could be found sitting in pretty much anyone’s lap, covered warmly with a blanket, his cheek pressed against their shirt, listening to their heartbeat – or listening to them tell stories or read to him. Even Nick had taken a turn or two, pointing out to all of them that there was absolutely nothing wrong with his lap and he had a million stories to tell.

Some were even tame enough to tell an eight year old.

Tony had finished Charlotte’s Web, and they’d started on Black Beauty. The billionaire would sit on the couch with the little boy, one arm around Peter and the other holding the book, reading in his steady, soothing voice, and every now and then stopping to press a tender kiss against Peter’s temple, or cheek. The boy would smile, reacting to the touch in any number of ways – usually wiping his nose on Tony’s shirt for good measure – and then would close his eyes and listen, again.

When it came to convincing him to eat, though, it was Natasha who was the best at that. Sam tried a spoon and choo choo noises, but Peter had shaken his head. Tony tried a simpler method; he bribed Peter. It didn’t work, but even Steve would roll his eyes when he’d hear Tony offer Peter a hundred dollars for every bite of oatmeal that he swallowed.

It didn’t work, but it was amusing to _watch_.

Despite the reassurance of the two compound surgeons, Pepper arrived on Thursday with a pediatrician in tow. Not that they didn’t _believe_ the other doctors, but they were a long time from the pediatric rotation that they’d undoubtedly done after medical school, and Peter wasn't sleeping. Wasn't eating. And didn’t feel good.

“It’s a cold _,”_ the specialist had pronounced after a very short examination of the boy. “There’s no shot to give, and no pill to take to cure it. He needs rest, quiet, and fluids.”

The two surgeons had rolled their eyes, looking smug, of course, and Tony had immediately asked about the fact that Peter wouldn’t eat and didn’t sleep, much, despite being lethargic.

“Just hold him when he needs it,” had been the suggestion. “He’ll start feeling better in a few days, I imagine.”

So they held him. And they cuddled him. And they talked to him when he was awake and restless. They kept him warm. Kept holding straws to his lips to get him to drink water, juices, and anything else that they could get him to swallow, and soothed him to help him sleep, as well as he could.

Nick decided that it was a good thing some evil super villain didn’t choose that week to invade the earth, because the Avengers were just too tired to deal with it, just then.

<><><><

By New Years Eve, the fever had broken and he wasn't quite as miserable.

Plenty tired; he was wiped out from being sick, but his appetite was starting to return, as was his cheerful disposition. He still wanted (needed) the comfort of a lap more often than not, but Nick had brought in a little table, similar to the one in his bedroom in Tony’s apartment, and installed it in the corner of the lounge. There were Legos, coloring books and color crayons – although not a _Sharpie_ in the bunch – and Peter spent a lot of time there, as well, playing, or drawing under the watchful eye of whoever was with him at the time.

“Not where I’d ever have expected to be on New Years Eve,” Pepper said a few minutes before the ball dropped in the city.

She wasn't there to see it. Instead, she had been invited by Tony and the others to the compound. They weren’t really having a party, exactly, but it was a new year, and it should be celebrated. They were gathered in the lounge, where a large display had been showing the celebrations from around the world as they happened, and Peter was dozing in Nick’s lap.

The SHIELD director was wearing a party hat made of brightly colored plastic with a string holding it in place on his head. The others were all wearing one, as well – but only because Peter had pointed out that he saw a movie one time where they wore party hats and popped string poppers and blew on noisemakers when the clock struck midnight. The boy had one, too, but his was a bit askew at the moment, since his cheek was resting against Nick’s chest.

Tony smiled, checking on Peter, automatically, before nodding.

“Not exactly our typical party, is it?”

“No.”

“Not enough glamour for you, Tony?” Steve asked, also smiling.

And looking far too good-looking considering he was wearing a goofy-looking hat.

“Not even close to the norm.” He looked over at Natasha, who was dressed in the sexy dress that Peter had bought her for Christmas. The one Tony had picked, knowing she’d look amazing in it. Not surprisingly, he’d been right. “Romanoff being the exception, of course.”

The assassin smirked.

“Pepper looks pretty good, too,” she pointed out.

“I’m not allowed to point that out, though,” Tony said. He shrugged. “Something about HR and harassment, that kind of thing.”

Pepper smiled.

“Exceptions can be made.” She looked at Peter. “Are you going to wake him up to watch?”

“Yup.” Tony handed Rhodey his drink and walked over to the sofa. “Hand him here, Nick.”

Fury pulled the blanket from Peter, and handed the little boy over. Peter was wearing pajamas and ready for bed, but he’d begged Tony to make sure that he was awake when it was the new year, and Tony wasn't going to disappoint.

“Hey, buddy,” Tony murmured, waking him, gently, with a hand pressed against the cheek. “Wake up and watch the new year come.”

Peter opened his eyes, sleepily, but he woke a little at the words, and they widened as he looked around.

“It’s time?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

They all gathered around the display, watching as the giant ball that dominated the screen began glowing brightly, and Peter shivered with excitement as he watched all the people in the crowd yelling the countdown along with the announcers.

“Three… two… one…!”

“Happy New Year!”

Sam tousled Peter’s hair, cheerfully, and Tony kissed the boy’s cheek, then leaned over and kissed Pepper, too, for good measure, while the others pulled the strings on their poppers, ribbons and sparks flying and noise giving the room a chaotic element for a short moment.

“Happy New Year, son,” Tony whispered to Peter, his face right against the boy’s ear to make himself heard.

“Happy New Year… _dad_ …?” He replied, the last word obviously uncertain, but so hopeful.

Tony felt his eyes sting, but his smile was so big it hurt his cheeks and he hugged the boy, fiercely.

“Did I hear what I think I heard?” Sam asked Steve.

Rogers smiled, and pulled the hat from his head, straightening his hair, automatically.

“I think you did. Yes.”


	64. 64

“He didn’t last long, did he?”

Tony shook his head, looking at the sleeping boy.

“I’m not too surprised. He’s pretty worn out, still, from being sick.”

Pepper smiled.

“ _You_ guys all look tired, too.”

“Because taking care of a sick little kid is exhausting.”

“Part of the learning experience, though, I imagine.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. Looking around the lounge, but everyone had cleared out, now that the ball had dropped, and the new year had been properly acknowledged. He and Pepper were alone with Peter, who was in Tony’s embrace, sound asleep. “It ruined the trip to Disney, though.”

“Why? You can still go.”

“He starts school, again, in a few days. And he’s still not completely over being sick, so we can’t go, now.”

“He’s pretty smart, though,” she pointed out. “Maybe take him out of classes for a few days and go. You two should spend some time together that doesn’t involve getting sneezed on.”

Tony hesitated, but he didn’t say no, immediately. It wasn't a terrible idea, after all. Peter could miss a few days – or even a week – of school. There was going to be a fair amount of initial disruption, anyway, really, once it became common knowledge that Tony had adopted him over the Christmas vacation. And since his name was going to be changed to Stark, there wasn't any way to conceal that fact.

“I’ll talk to him about it in the morning.”

She smiled.

“You do that. You could use a vacation, too.”

“Funny you say that,” he said. “I was thinking that _you_ could, as well.”

“If _you’re_ gone, that’s a vacation in itself,” Pepper told him, smiling to soften what might have been considered harsh – despite being true.

Although with the addition of Peter in Tony’s life, things had definitely become a lot easier for the PR (and HR) people. Which made things much easier for Pepper. The guy was practically human, now – and as far as she knew, there hadn’t even been a single party, or any overnight female visitors.

“You could come with us.”

“To _Disneyland_?”

“Have you ever been?”

“When I was a girl.”

“It’s probably changed a bit, since then. What do you think?”

“I think you should have some vacation with just your son.”

The phrasing made Tony smile down at the sleeping boy, again, before he shrugged.

“I think he’d love for you to come. Besides, I could use some help keeping an eye on him.”

“The others aren’t going to be invited?”

“Could you imagine the craziness that would ensue if the _Avengers_ were to show up at Disney? The place would be a madhouse, and we wouldn’t be able to do anything without people swarming us.”

“And the presence of _Ironman_ isn’t going to cause a scene?”

“If I do it right, no one will even know I am there.”

“Yeah?”

“People won’t notice me. I’ll be in jeans, and holding hands with a little kid. We’ll look like everyone else there.”

“Until you tell them your name when you check in at the hotel.”

“As Tony _Parker_ , you mean?”

“Seriously?”

“Why not? He’s taking my name, it’s only fair I use his.” He smirked. “Want to be _Mrs. Parker_ for a week?”

She rolled her eyes.

“I have a business to run. _Your_ business.”

“You have vice presidents and assistants, right?”

“Yes.”

“There you go. Let them run it for a week.”

“I-“

“I’ll have _Peter_ ask you in the morning.”

She wasn't driving home as late as it was, and had already accepted an invitation to use one of the guest rooms. It was one of the reasons she wasn't in any hurry to leave, and was more than willing to socialize for a while rather than go to bed.

“That isn’t _fair_.”

The billionaire didn’t look at all repentant.

“Well?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good. You can let me know in the morning.” He shifted his grip on the boy so he could stand up. “Now, you can help me put him to bed.”

It was a pain in the ass to try and pull back blankets _and_ hold him, after all.

She smiled, and stood up, too.

“Can I carry him?”

“Sure.”

He handed Peter over, and the boy roused at the transfer, his little body tensing.

“It’s morning?” he asked, sleepily.

“No, honey,” Pepper said, softly. “Go back to sleep.”

He rested his cheek on her shoulder, his nose pressed against the side of her neck and sighed, lightly, and did what he was told.

Tony smiled.

“See? Easy peasy.”

She shook her head.

If it were that easy, he wouldn’t look so _tired_ , now would he?

><><><><><

“You’ll never win, Darth Vader… the avengers will _find_ you.”

“But when they do, I’ll use the _force_ on them…”

“It won’t work on them.”

“It works on everyone. Even _Ironman_.”

“What are you doing up?”

Startled, Peter looked up at Tony. He was in the lounge, sitting at the little table that was so perfectly sized for him. In one hand he was holding the Lego Ironman, and in the other he had a Lego Darth Vader. They were clearly at odds with each other.

Tony was looking at him, expectantly.

“I was just playing…” Peter replied.

“You’re supposed to be _sleeping_.”

They’d put him to bed only a few hours, before, and he’d been sleeping soundly enough that Tony had expected him to still be asleep the next morning when breakfast time rolled around. Instead, the billionaire had been woken by JARVIS advising him that Peter was not only awake, but that the boy was in the lounge.

Since there hadn’t been any urgency in the alert, Stark didn’t rush to the room to save Peter. He stopped long enough to put a shirt on, and some slippers, and then had gone looking for his boy.

“I woke up.”

“I see.” Tony reached down and brushed the back of his hand against Peter’s forehead, feeling for a fever, and relieved when he didn’t find one. “How do you feel?”

“Okay. Not sleepy.”

“No?”

Peter shook his head.

“No.”

“Well, that’s understandable, I suppose. You’ve been sleeping a lot, lately. But I don’t want you up all night, because then you’ll be too tired to do anything with us, tomorrow. When you were sick, you would just fall asleep at any time, but you’re not going to want to be awake at night and sleepy in the day, now that you’re feeling better.”

“Oh.” He thought about it. “I’m _still_ not sleepy, though.”

Tony smiled at that.

“Then come talk to me for a minute, okay?”

“Okay.”

Tony waited for Peter to set the Lego figures down, and then he picked the boy up and carried him over to the sofa, sitting down and bringing Peter to his lap. It was pretty much automatic, now, after days of cuddling him when he didn’t feel well.

“I was talking to Pepper…” he said, hooking the coffee table with his foot and pulling it closer so that he could put his feet against it, lifting his knees to allow Peter to lean back against his bent legs and look at him. “I told her that I was thinking about taking next week off from working.”

“Can you do that?” Peter asked. “You stayed away _this_ week, too.”

He knew that Tony had been present almost every time he’d woken up and asked for him while he hadn’t been feeling good.

“It’s my company,” Tony reminded him. “Of course I can. But… I was thinking that maybe _you_ would want to take next week off from school, too.”

“Why?”

“Because you got sick and we couldn’t go to Disney this week like we talked about, and I still want to go. We need some time to get the school ready for you to be Peter _Stark_ , anyway, and to get some additional security into place. So it’d be a good time to do it – and nobody does _anything_ really important right after the holiday, so you probably wouldn’t miss much.”

“Oh.”

“Are you interested?”

Peter nodded, smiling.

“It would be fun.”

“I think so, too.” He echoed Peter’s smile. “You know what else might be fun?”

“What?”

“If we invited _Pepper_ to come, too.”

“Yeah?”

“The others are going to be busy doing Avengers stuff, and can’t go, but _Pepper_ could get away. We just need to make sure she understands that she’s invited and that we really want her to come with us. What do you think?”

“I’d like that.”

“Maybe we’ll bring it up, then, tomorrow. Before she heads home.”

“Okay.”

Tony smiled, reaching out and tapping Peter, tenderly, on his nose – making the little boy smile.

“But… in order for you to do that, you need to be awake, tomorrow. Which means…?”

He waited, expectantly, and Peter shrugged.

“What?”

“That you need to go to sleep, tonight.”

Peter groaned, theatrically, and Tony shifted him in his lap with a soft chuckle. He put his arms around Peter, and recognizing the invitation, the youngster cuddled against Tony’s chest, sighing, when he felt those strong arms come around him and hold him.

“Maybe I could _try_ …” he conceded, pressing his cheek on Tony’s collarbone.

“Yeah.”

He’d hold him, quietly, until the boy was lulled back to sleep. Then he’d put him to bed for a few more hours, at least.


	65. 65

“You’re evil.”

Tony smirked, unrepentant.

“What did I do?” he asked, innocently.

“You sicced Peter on me.”

“ _Whaaaat_?” he allowed his voice to go a little higher in shock. “I’d never do something like that. Not that sweet little guy of mine.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, looking over at the boy, who was still wearing pajamas – proof that they were going to stay at the compound one more day, just to make sure that Peter’s cold was well on its way to being gone before Tony would risk taking him outside.

Even just to transfer him from the building to his car for the drive home.

He’d fallen asleep as planned, and Stark had put him to bed – _also_ as planned. Tony liked it when things went according to his plans. He had stayed a few minutes, watching Peter sleep and listening for the sound of any congestion that might be lurking, but the boy seemed to be resting peacefully. Rather than risk waking him by joining him to hold him, Stark went back to bed, and fell asleep easily.

In the morning, Peter had climbed into Pepper’s lap after breakfast was done, and had cuddled into her embrace while Tony and Natasha arm wrestled over the last cup of coffee that was in the pot. Peter had sighed in contentment that had made Pepper smile, and then had simply told her that Tony was going to take him to Disney, and did she want to come with them?

The woman forced herself not to look over at her boss, who had to be the one responsible, but he was pointedly not looking her way as he shook his arm and accused Romanoff of taking steroids, or something.

“Did _Tony_ tell you to invite me?” she asked Peter.

He smiled up at her, brown eyes happy.

“Yeah. It’ll be fun,” he added, hopefully. “There are rides, and food – and even a hotel that is right by the rides.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that. Have you ever been?”

“No. I don’t remember it, if I have. It’s probably something I’d remember.”

“Probably.”

“You could come and take a vacation. Tony said that you need one.”

“He did, did he?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah. Please?” he added. “I’ll win you a stuffed animal.”

She smiled, and then shrugged, unwilling to say no to him.

Or maybe _unable_?

“I suppose I could take a few days of vacation. I have a lot of it accrued.”

“Wow. This will be fun.”

And then he’d simply held her, making Pepper feel like mush inside at being used as a cuddle buddy.

Eventually he had moved, too restless to stay still for long. He was playing Legos with Natasha and Clint, and she was still on the couch – only now Tony had come over to join her.

“Yes, that sweet little guy of yours. He told me that you suggested inviting me when you go to Disney.”

“He must be mistaken,” Tony said. “He’s _eight_ , so it’s bound to happen”

“So you’re not going to Disney? And I’m not invited to join you?”

“Disney sounds like fun. And if Peter has his heart set on it, then we have to go, really. You, of course, are more than welcome to come, too.”

“When?”

“Whatever dates are best for you,” was the immediate reply. “Peter and I have open schedules, this week.”

><><><><>

“What are you doing?” Tony asked, peeking into Peter’s bedroom, and finding the little boy sitting in the middle of his bed, with his backpack.

It was open and the manilla envelope was out, with the contents all scattered around him. There were a few more, now, than there had been the very first time that Tony had seen them. Including his Lego avengers, the bear Tony had won him at the carnival, and now a few pictures that he’d been given of the Tatros on Christmas.

“Packing.”

Peter’s smile was excited, and Tony walked into the bedroom.

“You don’t _need_ to bring that, you know…” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, carefully, to avoid sitting on anything. “It will still be here when we get home from Disney.”

Peter looked at him, uncertainly, and Tony felt that familiar ache that he always had when he was reminded of just how rough the boy had had things, in the past. It was one of the reasons that the billionaire was so determined to make his present and future amazing. (Another reason was probably that he didn’t know how to do anything on a small level)

“I know…” the boy said, and Tony saw his hand tighten, just a little, on his father’s wristwatch. “I just…”

“You _can_ bring it, buddy,” Tony assured him. “I just wanted to remind you that you don’t have to worry about that, anymore. No one can take you away from me, now, and JARVIS wouldn’t let anyone get away with taking anything of yours. Would you, JARVIS?”

_“Of course not,”_ came the immediate reply. “ _Not only would I immediately alert your father, Peter…”_ and Tony smiled at the way the AI was reminding the boy of his new status. _“I would also alert the avengers.”_

“See?” Tony said. “You think Natasha and Sam would let anyone get away with doing something like that?”

“No.”

“Not a chance. And then _Nick_ would make sure they were sorry.”

If Romanoff didn’t take care of it, first. Of course, he didn’t say that aloud. Peter had no idea just how deadly Natasha was, and Tony had no intention of letting him in on that knowledge until he had to know.

Peter nodded.

“I can still take it with me?”

“Yes. Of course, you can.” He watched as all of the treasures went back into the envelope, and then the envelope went back into the backpack. “Other things that should go in your backpack are your phone, your tablet, a book – _not_ a schoolbook – and whatever you think you might want to play with on the flight. Your clothes and that kind of stuff go into your suitcase. See? They won’t be needed until we get to the hotel, right?”

“Yeah.”

He was looking excited, again, and Tony took the backpack and put it on Peter’s desk. They were leaving in the morning. They would be swinging by to pick up Pepper at her upscale apartment building, and then would be going to the private airfield to take the SI jet to Disneyland. Peter had been talking about very little else since they’d returned to the city the day before and had stopped at a store on the way in to buy Peter a new set of luggage for the trip.

His suitcase was on his little table near the closet, already open and waiting – although Tony had suggested that the boy let him help decide what to bring.

That was he didn’t end up with eighteen shirts, one pair of pants, three socks and no underwear.

“Should we finish your packing, tonight? Or in the morning?”

“Natasha said to do it tonight so I don’t feel rushed and forget something in the morning.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“She’s pretty smart, huh?”

“Yes, she is.”

“And pretty.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “That, too.”

“So is Pepper.”

“Yes to both of those. Smart _and_ pretty.”

“Yeah.”

Tony smiled, brushing his fingers against his son’s cheek. (his _son’s_ cheek! How the hell had that happened?)

“What are you thinking about?” he asked the boy.

Peter shook his head, eyes happy.

“Nothing. Just something that JARVIS and I were talking about last night.”

“Oh? What?”

_“Legoland,”_ JARVIS said before Peter could respond. _“I was telling him the various rides and activities that are exclusive to that park, as well.”_

Peter grinned. He and Tony had actually downloaded and printed out a brochure for the Legoland park that was adjacent to Disney. It was definitely something the boy was interested in experiencing, after all, and they’d spent over an hour looking through it and debating what rides would be ones that he could go on – due to size restrictions – and what he’d even want to go on.

And that didn’t even include the Lego activities indoors.

The billionaire didn’t miss the fact that the brochure was also sitting on Peter’s bed.

“Why don’t I help you pack, now?” he suggested, reaching over and hoisting the boy off the bed and into his arms. “That way we’re ready to go when Happy comes to get us, tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He hugged Tony, because he couldn’t hug himself, just then, and pressed a kiss against his cheek like the man had done to him so many times. “And then I can help you pack, too.”

Tony smiled and kissed him back before setting him down.

“That’s a great idea.”


	66. 66

“Last chance to change your mind and let me go home…”

Tony smirked, looking over at Pepper, who was settling herself into the plush leather chair of the jet.

“You aren’t a _prisoner_ , Pep. You could leave any time.”

She rolled her eyes, giving him the look that he knew so well before she turned her attention to Peter, who was being shown the cockpit by the two pilots that would be flying them to California.

“Right. Like that was ever really an option. Not since you had him turn those big brown eyes on me.”

“ _My_ big brown eyes?” he teased, hoping to make her smile.

She complied.

“You’re entirely too good at getting what you want, Tony.”

“Well,” he said, thanking the steward who was escorting Peter back to sit in the chair beside him. “I want you to have fun. So let’s work on that, shall we?”

Peter smiled, buckling his seatbelt under the watchful eye of the steward, who then tugged on it to make sure it was tight.

“ _I_ want you to have fun, too, Pepper,” the boy agreed.

Pepper’s expression softened.

“I’m sure we’ll have a great time,” she told him, ignoring the amused triumph in Stark’s expression. He probably just wanted the extra babysitter. “What are you looking forward to seeing, most?”

“ _Everything_.”

“I hope your dad brought comfortable shoes, then.”

Now it was Tony’s turn to roll his eyes. The implication being that he was going to be doing a lot of walking that week.

“I did.”

<>><><><>

It was Peter’s first flight, so it probably wasn't much of a surprise that the boy spent most of the trip with his nose pressed against one of the windows along the fuselage of the sleek jet. Once the flight leveled off, and Tony and the steward gave him permission, he unbuckled himself and went to the low slung couch that ran along the length of the small area to look outside.

“Peter, honey, don’t stand like that,” Pepper had said, quickly, worried that if they hit turbulence the boy might lose his balance and fall backward – and probably hit his head or something.

Peter had dropped to his knees without comment, but hadn’t moved his face away from the view.

“The tops of the clouds look a lot like the _bottoms_ ,” he noted.

“Yes, they do,” Tony agreed, leaning back into the fine leather and relaxing. Peter’s excitement for the trip had left the boy wide awake the night before – even more than usual – and Tony was more than willing to catch up on that missed sleep during the flight. He was sleeping fairly regular – despite Peter’s odd sleeping patterns, and he was beginning to get used to it. “It shouldn’t be cloudy the entire way, so you’ll get to see what the tops of _mountains_ look like, too.”

“Wow.”

Pepper smiled, and then accepted a glass of wine from the steward. He didn’t have to ask her what kind she preferred; she’d been on the jet many times, after all.

“Peter? Are you hungry?”

“No, thank you.”

He didn’t even turn his head.

Tony smiled, and closed his eyes.

“He can eat, later.”

She shrugged, but since Tony wasn't going to insist the boy had something, neither was she. Instead, she pulled out a paperback book, settled into her seat and allowed herself to enjoy the flight. But even as she read, occasionally she would glance over at the little boy, and then smile at Tony, who was already asleep.

><><><>>

The hotel they were staying at was at Disney, not in the Legoland property. Mainly because Tony only anticipated one day at Legoland, with the rest of the holiday being spent riding rides and enjoying the activities that were much more diverse. There were acres of property to look at, after all. _Much_ more than Legoland had to offer.

When their jet landed (at another private airfield) there was a car waiting for them. This one was a sleek sedan, and Pepper and Tony put Peter between them in the back, allowing the driver to load everything into the trunk except Peter’s backpack, which stayed with the boy. He held it on his lap, holding _it_ rather than hugging himself, but the two adults actually felt him tremble with excitement when the car crossed into the Disney properties and stopped in front of the fancy hotel.

Tony smiled at Pepper over Peter’s head, and took the boy’s backpack.

“Come on, buddy,” he said, opening the door before the driver could. “We’ll check into our suite, have some dinner and relax a while.”

“Can we go on rides?” Peter asked, scrambling out of the back of the car behind Tony.

“Not tonight,” he replied, offering the boy his free hand and squeezing it, lightly, when Peter took it. “We’ll get a lay of the land, and get ready, tonight, then we’ll do all that stuff tomorrow.”

There were rides at Legoland, so it was a promise that he knew he could keep.

Peter knew that, too.

“Okay.”

Pepper stepped up beside him, and took Peter’s other hand, and they walked into the hotel lobby, leaving their bags for the driver and the hotel staff to take care of. Peter smiled, swinging from their grips, playfully, not at all tired – even though he hadn’t slept during the flight like the two adults had. Indulging the boy, Tony swung his arm to allow Peter to swing out and then back, and when she realized what he was doing, Pepper echoed the motion on the other side, which made the little boy giggle, happily.

It wasn't exactly a ride, but it was still fun.

The three walked up to the check in desk, and Peter looked around the lobby, excited.

“Look!” he said, pointing, and getting Tony and Pepper’s attention. They both saw a woman dressed as Cinderella walk across the room, holding hands with two little girls, and being followed by another. “Wow.”

Tony smiled at his cheer, but had to turn back to the conversation that he was having with the desk clerk.

This was going to be so much fun.

<><><><><>

“This is nice.”

Pepper looked around the room they were standing in, her hand still holding Peter’s, idly, as it had the entire ride up the elevator and to the door of the suite she’d reserved for them. Tony had offered to do all the leg work on the vacation – it was his idea, after all, and was supposed to be a break for her – but she said she didn’t mind.

Secretly, he assumed that she wanted to make sure everything was laid on right, the first time, and trusted herself to do that more efficiently than she trusted him.

It was a two bedroom suite. Pepper would have one room, and he and Peter would take the other. Tony had made a sly comment about maybe making different sleeping arrangements, and she’d countered with the rejoinder that Peter might be a blanket hog and she didn’t _want_ to share her bed with him. The billionaire had rolled his eyes, amused, and had dropped the idea of them sharing one room and giving Peter his own.

He hadn’t really expected her to be on board with that notion.

“It _is_ ,” he agreed.

There was also a large living area, with a couch, a couple of chairs, a large flatscreen TV and a full bar, rather than just a minibar. There was a coffee table with a huge basket that held fruit, nuts, candies and every kind of snack that they might think of while they were there.

They took a few minutes to look around, with Peter making excited noises every time he found something new to gawk at in the room.

“Look!” he'd say, pointing at (or picking up) something that was designed to be purely decorative, but was still amazing to the boy. “Isn't it great?”

Pepper seated herself on the sofa so she could watch him without following him around, but Tony eventually held up a hand to stop him, and gestured for him to join him at the far corner.

“Come here, Peter,” he said, crouching down on the floor next to a big metal box.

Peter went over and joined him, and he saw his backpack next to it.

“What is it?” the boy asked, curiously.

“It’s a safe,” Tony replied. “We’re going to put your backpack in here, to make sure it’s safe when we go out and look around. There’s too much chance that you might lose it out in the park – and I don’t want that to happen.”

“Oh.” Peter eyed the box, speculatively. “No one can get into it?”

“Just the people who know the code. You, me, and Pepper. No one else.”

“Wow.”

Their own safe? How cool was that?

Tony smiled, and handed the boy his backpack.

“Take out what you think you’ll need while we’re here.”

It shouldn’t be much, he knew – and was proven right when the only thing Peter pulled from the bag was the teddy bear Tony had won for him – and his Lego Avengers. Then he handed the backpack to Tony, who opened the safe and tucked it, neatly inside.

“What is the code?” Peter asked.

“Whatever you want it to be,” was the reply. “But not a birthday,” he added, smiling.

“Right,” Pepper said, proving that she was listening. “Only an idiot uses his birthday for a code.”

“Tony did it,” Peter told her, which made Stark roll his eyes.

“She _knows_ , buddy,” he said. “She was just being a smart ass.”

He smiled when he said it, though, so Peter would know that he wasn't being serious. When the boy looked over at Pepper, uncertainly, she was smiling, too.

“Pick a number, guys,” she told them. “I’m hungry.”

><><><>

They did as they were told, and soon the safe was locked tightly, and Peter felt himself relax a little. He and Tony went into their shared room and Tony helped him unpack the clothes that they’d brought, putting them into the wardrobe that was supplied. One that was designed to look much older than it actually was.

Part of the Disney experience, Tony told him when Peter commented on it.

When they returned to the common room, Pepper was just coming out of her room, as well, and she smiled.

“Do we go out to eat?” she asked. “Or eat here?”

“We go out,” Tony decided, looking at Peter. He picked the boy up and put him on the back of the sofa, though. “But first… some ground rules.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, but Peter nodded.

“Okay.”

“You stay with me or Pepper at all times.”

“Okay.”

“And you make sure that we know who you’re going to be with. Makes sense?”

“Yes.”

This wasn't too different from when they went anywhere, really – there was just the addition of Pepper.

“If you get lost, you wait where you are for me to come find you.”

“Right.”

“And you don’t go with anyone. No matter who they are, or what they’re offering you. Right?”

“Yes.” Peter smiled, looking up at him. “I’ll be _careful_.”

Which made Tony pick him up and hug him.

“I know, buddy. So will I.” He looked at Pepper. “Unpacked? Ready?”

“Absolutely.”


	67. 67

If they thought that they were going to have a nice quiet dinner, just the three of them, Tony and Pepper were wildly mistaken.

The hotel restaurant had two different dining areas. One area was designed for people without children, who wanted the Disney experience, but didn’t want a handful of kids running around shouting, yelling and being kids. The other area – the area where Pepper and Tony were guided with Peter between them – wasn't exactly _chaos_ , but it wasn't far from it.

There were children present – which wasn't a bad thing, of course – and even more exciting (to Peter, anyway) was the fact that there were various people dressed as Disney characters walking around the area, stopping to greet people at the tables, and take pictures with the children. And any adult that might be interested.

Six months ago – hell, even _two_ months ago – Tony would have found the back corner of the quiet, adult, section and had vainly tried to ignore the happy shouts coming from all around him. _Now_ , however, he watched with satisfaction as Peter’s eyes seemed to get wider and wider as he took in what was going on around them. Even as he sat in his chair, he jumped up, waving in excitement as Mickey Mouse himself walked over to say hello, with Minnie right behind him.

The billionaire exchanged a glance with Pepper, who’d been watching his own reaction rather than the boy’s, and she smirked.

“I think he’s going to have a fun time.”

“Yeah.”

That was the whole point, right?

<><><><><

Clint smirked when Steve and Natasha both received alerts from their phones, interrupting the conversation they’d been having.

“Another one?” he asked, watching as they looked at their displays – and then watching as Sam walked into the room, looking at his phone, too. “Who did he find, this time?”

“I got him with some cowboy guy…” came a deep voice from the other side of Romanoff.

She looked at Fury’s phone.

“That’s Woody. From _Toy Story_.”

The boy was hugging him, tightly, grinning at whoever was taking the photo – although it was uncertain if it were Pepper, or Tony. Tony was the one sending them updates, though, so they all assumed it was Stark.

“He looks like he’s having a good time.”

Steve smirked.

“Did you get the one of Tony and Peter having a tea party with the Mad Hatter?”

“I don’t think I’ve missed a single one,” Natasha said, honestly.

The last three days had been interesting for the Avengers. Mainly because while they were working on their usual responsibilities and duties, their days would be broken up by a flurry of pictures – undoubtedly sent by Tony but at Peter’s request – of practically a play by play of the activities that Tony and his new son were engaging in on their trip.

Peter and Tony in Legoland. Peter and Tony building with those Legos. Peter and Tony posing with Lego Batman – while Peter held up his Lego Batman character. That one had been especially hilarious to the others, since Tony’s expression was utterly priceless. Then the scenery had switched to Tomorrowland and Fantasyland and they’d all enjoyed Frontiertown photos.

It looked like they were having fun, and even Pepper Potts had been captured on digital imagery with the two of them, sipping imaginary (or real?) tea with the Queen of Hearts and her cohorts, and riding rides with the two.

“What kind of chatter have we heard since the announcement?” Fury asked, changing the tone of the conversation back to what they’d been discussing. “Any indication we have a problem?”

Romanoff looked at Steve, who shook his head.

“No. So far there’s a lot of shock, a little sarcasm and a fair amount of cynicism.”

Tony and Pepper had decided that eventually the world was going to find out about Peter. So, rather than make them wait, they had Stark’s PR people allow the announcement to be made. While they were away on vacation – and completely off the grid. Even in the swarm of people that were around them all day, it seemed.

The media had gone crazy the first two days, speculating and asking for photos and statements. None were forthcoming, and it was driving them all mad.

Fury and the Avengers weren’t worried about the media, however.

Their point of concern was someone – or a group of someones – deciding that the billionaire’s new son might make a good target. For kidnapping and ransom, or simply as a statement of just how much they hated the man and making an example of him. Thus far, things were silent, but SHIELD had a network like none seen before, and they were watching, carefully.

“We can expect all of that,” Nick conceded. “Any indication that anyone knows where they are?”

“Nope. Tony Parker and his son and wife…” Romanoff smirked at that ruse. “Are at Disney enjoying themselves. The media has been told that statements will come when they are good and ready to give them, and photos will be limited.”

“That won’t last, though,” Clint said. “Peter’s too cute to not be an immediate favorite of the press. If Tony doesn’t allow them some access to him, then the paparazzi will hound them, relentlessly. He’ll be better off having a weekly or bi-weekly round table with them so they can get accustomed to Peter – and him to them.”

“We’ll worry about that, later,” Nick said. “That’s _his_ problem, really. My problem is keeping that boy safe.”

Romanoff smiled.

“ _Grandpa_ Nick… who would believe it?”

The single eye narrowed, slightly.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, Agent Romanoff.”

She wasn't cowed.

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

Then she sneezed.

><><><><><

“Why are you still awake?”

“Because I’m not sleeping.”

Tony rolled his eyes at that logic, and sat down on the edge of the bed that he and Peter had been sharing for the past four days. He brushed his hand along the boy’s cheek, but Peter wasn't fevered. He looked happy – if not just a little tired.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

Peter shrugged.

“What’s a publicity stunt?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard it, today,” he said. “While we were in the gift shop.”

“Yeah?” He had a feeling that he knew what was coming, and was glad that Peter was asking. “What did you hear?”

“That you adopted a little kid, and that it’s nothing more than a publicity stunt.”

“Ah.” Stark picked Peter up, putting him onto his lap, but not cuddling. He just wanted to make sure he had his attention. “Yeah, you’re probably going to hear something like that, a lot, in the next few days, or months. What they are saying is that I decided to adopt you because it makes me look good.”

“Oh.”

“Which it _does_ ,” Tony admitted. “But that isn’t why I adopted you.”

“You adopted me because you love me.”

“ _Exactly_. And because I feel good whenever you’re with me, and I want to feel good all the time.”

The boy smiled at that.

“Even when I was sick?”

Tony nodded.

“Maybe even more when you were sick. It made me feel needed.”

“Oh.” Peter hesitated. “I don’t like being sick.”

“And I don’t _want_ you sick,” he assured the boy. “I want you to be happy.”

“I _am_ happy.”

“Good.” He sighed. “We should have had this conversation before you agreed to being adopted by me.”

“What conversation?” Peter asked, suddenly worried that Tony didn’t want to have him be his son, anymore.

It must have shown in his expression, but Tony smiled down at him, and tapped him on the nose, reassuringly, and playful all in one.

“Eventually – and it’ll probably be sometime in the near future – we’re going to have to let the press know a little more about you. Because they’re going to be assholes and drive us all crazy if we don’t. But that means that you’re probably going to be pretty famous – at least for a while. Might even be the most well-known boy in the world. Most talked about anyway.”

“Even more than _Peter Pan_?”

A character that they’d met just that afternoon.

Tony shrugged.

“Maybe. It’ll die down, eventually, and something else will come along to distract them, but until then, you might get some unwelcomed attention. We’ll do everything that we need to do to shield you from that, but the kids at school are going to talk, and they might pester you.”

“Agent Hill won’t let anyone too close to me,” Peter pointed out, sensibly. “One of the girls in my biology class came up to me to hug me for Christmas, and Maria wouldn’t let her.”

“That’s her job,” Tony told him. “You’re very huggable, of course, but that doesn’t mean that people can just walk up to you and do it. Unless you want them to, of course. If she is someone that you’re particularly fond of, tell Maria, next time, and she’ll allow it. But not the press – and no one who wants to do anything annoying.”

“How do I know the difference?”

“That another job of Agent Hill’s. She knows who belongs and who doesn’t. Maybe we’ll see if Nick can add another agent, for a while, until the furor dies down a little.”

Peter looked a little dubious.

“That’s a lot of work for one little kid.”

“One very _special_ little kid,” Tony told him. “A kid who I didn’t adopt as a publicity stunt, and who I’m very happy to have in my life. You understand what I’m saying?”

Peter smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now, go to sleep, okay? We have one more day, here, I don’t want you to be too sleepy to enjoy it.”

So far he’d been doing pretty well, really, despite falling asleep the first day while Tony had been carrying him back to the hotel after the Main Street fireworks display. He’d even been sleeping through the nights, for the most part. Of course, they were constantly moving during the days, exploring the park, so it was either that they were wearing him out by day so he slept at night, or it was because Tony was sleeping in his bed with him, providing a warm cocoon of protection from bad dreams.

Whatever it was, it was working. Which was a good thing, since JARVIS wasn't there to interface with – except for the laptop and tablets. And that wasn't the same, of course.

“You’re coming to bed?”

“In a little while. I’m going to keep Pepper company.”

“Okay.”

Tony tucked him back under the blankets, leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“Good night, Peter Stark.”

The boy smiled.

“Good night, Tony _Parker_.”

Stark rolled his eyes, amused, tapped his nose and then left the room, turning the light out behind him and closing the door so the light from the living room didn’t keep him awake.


	68. 68

“Is he asleep?”

“Not, yet,” Tony replied, coming over to the sofa and settling near Pepper, but not close enough to be touching her. He poured himself a drink, offered her one, and then took a sip. “He asked me what a _publicity stunt_ was.”

She nodded, understanding, immediately.

“You’ll have to address the media, eventually.”

He scowled at that, even though it was the exact thing he’d told Peter.

“We should find some little mom and pop newspaper and let _them_ have the exclusive.”

Pepper smiled.

“It wouldn’t work and you know it. We’ll have a media day – at the tower, where we can control who comes in and who goes out. Give them an hour.”

“Not a huge crowd.”

“No. Very few, to make it less overwhelming. Maybe we can let them come have a snack, let them ask Peter some questions – with you right there beside him, and maybe Natasha Romanoff looming in the background looking dangerous to keep them from getting too comfortable.”

He nodded his approval of that, and knew Romanoff would agree if he asked.

“No video cameras and lights, though,” he added. “Just some pictures and paper to take notes with.”

“Sounds fair.”

“And they all need to bring him a _present_.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Why?”

“ _Why not_?” he asked, shrugging. “If they want to spend any time with him, then they can bring him something. It’ll make him happy.”

Pepper shook her head, amused.

“I’ll start sending out feelers when we get home,” she told him. “We’ll allow three people.”

“Don’t _invite_ anyone in particular,” the billionaire suggested. “Let them fight each other to be the ones who get to come.”

“You don’t care who it is?” she asked, surprised.

“Not in the least. If they’re warm and caring and _careful_ , they’ll stay. If they’re assholes, they’re out on their ear, and I don’t care what they brought Peter.”

She hesitated, and then shrugged.

“Alright.”

He smiled, leaning back and relaxing in a way that he never really had in her company, before. It was nice.

“Tomorrow is going to be an easy day,” he said. “New Orleans square, the haunted house and riding the railroad. Loud, but slow.”

“You really think he’s going to be alright with the haunted house?”

“We’ll see. If it’s too much, we’ll skip it and do the Indiana Jones ride, again.”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

“We rode it _six times_.”

“I know. Peter likes it.”

And so did Tony, really.

“We’ll try the haunted house, first.”

“Yeah.”

And _then_ the Indiana Jones ride.

><><><><><>

“Got him okay?”

Tony nodded, smiling down at the sleeping child that he was holding, and then over at Pepper who was sitting across from him on the plane.

“Yeah. He’s good.”

Even though it was early evening, it was still dark by the time they boarded the jet to go back to New York. Since there wasn't anything to see out the window in the dark, Peter had settled in the chair beside Tony to start the flight, and then, when they’d taken off and leveled out, he’d crawled from his seat over to sit in Tony’s lap.

When the billionaire didn’t do anything more than put an arm around him to hold him in place, the boy had relaxed and had fallen asleep almost immediately. Stark had absently pressed a kiss against Peter’s temple and had turned his attention back to the conversation that he’d been having with Nick.

It hadn’t been a long one, and when the SHIELD director had ended the call, Tony had switched his attentions to Pepper, who had her shoes off and was relaxing in the plush leather seat. The flight had been relaxed, and they’d both ended up dozing off, worn out from a week of chasing a little boy through acres of theme park.

“I had a good time,” Pepper told him. “Thanks for siccing Peter on me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said innocently. He smiled, though. “I’m glad you came. It was a good time.”

“ _And_ I had a chance to get to know Peter, better,” she said. “So there’s a personality behind every story you tell me about him, now. And I might believe you if you try to tell me that he needs your attention more than I need you to be at the tower for a meeting.”

“Added benefit,” Stark said, smirking. “I didn’t think about that. Don’t I qualify for some kind of paternity leave, now?”

“I believe that you might,” she admitted.

“And I can’t wait for the tax right-offs.”

“He’s _one_ little boy,” she reminded him. “Don’t go crazy, now.”

They both smiled at that.

“I think we’re going to spend the weekend recuperating,” he said.

“And school on Monday?”

“No. As a matter of fact, according to Nick, we’re going to need to keep Peter out of school all next week.”

“Why?”

“Because half of his SHIELD agents – _including_ Maria Hill – and most of the Avengers have come down with Peter’s cold.”

He was clearly amused rather than concerned.

“Oh, no.”

“Yes.” Tony brushed a hand against Peter’s hair when the boy stirred in his embrace, but he didn’t wake. “So, since his security detail is sick, and the corridors of the compound reek of Vape-o-rub, we’re going to wait until everyone’s healthier and we can have the school vetted, completely.”

“It might be a good idea to just wait, then, until the media meet him.”

“I’ll talk to Nick and Romanoff.”

“And to _Peter_ ,” Pepper reminded him. “To make sure he understands why the delay.”

“Yeah. Good point.” He was going to have to get used to the idea of bouncing things off the boy, after all. “Want to come over this weekend?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not tired of me?”

“Nope.”

She smiled.

“I’ll think about it. But I have a lot to do. No promises.”

“Fair enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a little shorter than usual, but I wanted to post it before I had to work - and this weekend might get crazy, so I will be erratic


	69. 69

“Well?”

Peter hesitated, looking out the window of the SUV at the huge house in front of them.

“It’s nice.”

Tony smiled.

“Think it’s worth going in and looking at?”

“Yeah.”

It was Sunday morning, and they’d taken all day Saturday to rest and recuperate from their trip – and allow Peter a chance to call the avengers and double-check that they really were alright. There was some coughing, and raspy voices, but when he spoke with Natasha, she assured the little boy that they were fine, and everyone had just caught a cold. They weren’t in any more danger, she told him, than he had been when _he’d_ been sick. Then she asked him all about the trip to Disney, and smiled when he assured her that he'd brought her back a present.

He'd brought everyone a present.

Feeling better (although maybe a little guilty) Peter had nodded when Tony suggested that they go look at a couple of houses that the realtor had picked out to match the requirements both the man and the boy had wanted in their future home. Most of the requirements were _Tony’s_ ; he was picky about how many bedrooms, what they featured, the kitchen, the appliances, a proper yard – and some extra area around it, the size of the place and the fact that there absolutely had to be sufficient wiring to handle what he’d do to the place to set JARVIS in the home network.

Peter was just hoping for a swimming pool and a bedroom that had a big window.

This one was surrounded by an iron fence and tall shrubbery, with a private driveway and a secure gate, with a pre-set security system. The realtor had made sure the place was open in case the billionaire wanted to drop in, and they’d taken him up on it. It was the second house that they’d looked at that morning.

The first one had been opulent, but didn’t have as many rooms as Tony wanted. And there wasn't a spot to put the piano.

“Come on, buddy.”

Tony offered Peter his hand, automatically, as they walked up to the porch, and then through the front door.

“Wow.”

Peter looked around with interest, but so did Tony. Not only at the house, itself, but at Peter’s reaction to it. When they looked into the bedrooms – and there were four – he watched when Peter ran over to the window to look out over the yard. A quick walk through the rest of the place; kitchen, dining room, huge family room, and even a room that Tony mentioned would make a good game room. A space for a den and a workroom for the billionaire so he could still tinker at all hours of the day, and a proper place to showcase the piano.

“What do you think?” Stark asked as they walked out the side door and looked at a swimming pool that was more than big enough for the two of them – as well as any large group of superheroes that they might want to invite over, someday. “Could you see us living here?”

“Forever?”

“That’s the plan.”

Peter hugged himself, excitedly.

“It’s pretty neat, isn’t it?”

That made Tony smile.

“Yeah.”

><><><><><>

“Are you nervous?” Natasha asked, standing next to Peter.

The little boy nodded, looking up at her.

“A _little_. Tony doesn’t like them.”

The assassin smiled, taking Peter’s hand. They were watching a video display that showed the room next to the one they were waiting in. A small room, furnished with a table and some chairs. The table held crayons, coloring books and Legos. It also had three distinctive giftbags on it; each one with a bow and ribbons in every shade of blue. There was another table with refreshments, pushed against the far wall. As they watched the display, Tony moved into the room, standing with Pepper and waiting.

A moment later, Happy opened the door and three people were ushered into the room. Two women and one man, and while _Peter_ didn’t recognize them, most everyone else who watched news definitely would. They silently walked in and looked around. Not finding what they were looking for, they turned their attention to Stark and Pepper.

The billionaire didn’t make them wait long.

“Ground rules,” Tony said, speaking before Pepper could welcome their guests.

Peter smiled, and Natasha squeezed his hand.

“We’re listening,” said the oldest of the visitors.

“One question at a time. Nothing complicated. You act like human beings and you don’t frighten him, or everyone goes home without a second chance. Got it?”

The three nodded. None of them liked being told what to do, or how to conduct an interview – even with an eight-year-old – but they all desperately wanted to be there.

“Agreed.”

“You have one hour,” Tony added. “Or until Peter’s done.”

The three nodded, and Stark turned toward the door where Natasha and Peter were waiting and nodded. A moment later Romanoff and Peter walked into the room. The boy walked over to stand beside Tony, while Natasha went to stand near Happy, and now both were watching the newcomers, intently.

Waiting for them to make any move that might prove to be a threat to Peter.

“You okay?” Tony asked Peter.

The boy nodded.

“Yes.”

He brought his hand up and Tony took it. Then the billionaire addressed the news reporters, again.

“This is my son, Peter Stark. He’s eight. He likes Legos, coloring and – for some reason I can’t fathom – _Batman_.”

Peter smiled.

Mindful of the scrutiny of the others, the reporters all smiled, too.

“Hello, Peter,” one of the women said, stepping up to offer him her hand. “How are you?”

“Good.”

The boy looked up at Tony and Pepper, and Stark smiled, reassuringly.

“It’s okay, buddy. They’re just going to ask you some questions.”

He and Peter had discussed this several times the last few days while they’d been waiting for Romanoff to recover from her cold and then lead the team that vetted the reporters, and the upcoming meeting, preparing for the media introduction to Peter. He knew what was supposed to be happening, and Tony had done a good job of preparing him.

“Okay.”

Tony led Peter to the table, and the reporters followed, seating themselves, as well.

“What do you like best about living with Mr. Stark?” the male reporter asked.

“Being with Tony.”

The billionaire smiled at that and he felt Pepper take his hand.

Then the two of them watched as the media slowly and very carefully introduced themselves to the child, and then joined him at the table, playing with Legos as they asked him questions and tried to learn more about the little boy who was now heir to a fortune and would almost certainly become one of the most known faces on the planet in the upcoming days.


	70. 70

“That went pretty well,” Pepper said, looking pleased as Happy followed the reporters out of the room a little over an hour and a half later.

_Proof_ that it had gone well, really, since the initial plan had been for them to only have an hour. The three were so careful, though, that Peter had been really enjoying himself; playing Legos with them, and the discussing coloring, and what he liked to do most. Rather than interrupt to tell them that their time was up, Tony and Pepper had allowed the extra questions and play time.

It probably didn’t hurt that the boy had spent several minutes of that time opening the three gift baskets and had been genuinely excited to find more Legos, coloring books, action figures of all kinds (including Batman, Tony noted, sourly) treats, and Hot Wheels. The three news people weren’t above bribery to get an exclusive and Tony wasn't above extorting them to allow it. Peter was oblivious to it all, but was the happy recipient of the machinations of both parties.

“It went great,” Tony agreed. He looked at Peter. “You did great.”

The boy smiled.

“They didn’t ask me about what I can _do_ , though.”

“Because we’re going to keep it a secret,” Natasha said. She was sitting at the table, now, gnawing on a carrot stick. “The less people who know about that, the better. At least until we learn what all you can do.”

“What are they talking about?” Pepper asked, curiously.

Romanoff frowned.

“She doesn’t know?”

Stark shrugged.

“It never really _came up_.”

“Are you planning on keeping it from her?”

“Not really. Like I said, we haven’t really had a conversation that allowed me to introduce the-“

“What are you two talking about?” Pepper interrupted.

“ _Me_ ,” Peter said.

“ _Peter_ ,” Tony agreed.

“What about him?”

“Well, he’s pretty extraordinary.”

“I know.”

“No. You only know _some_ of it.”

She looked at the little boy, and then back at Stark, expectantly.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s smart,” Tony said. “And he’s _cute_ , of course, and pretty level-headed, most of the time. But there’s much more to Peter Stark than meets the eye.” He smiled at Peter. “Isn't there?”

The boy nodded, smiling, shyly.

“A little. Yes.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s hard to explain,” Tony replied.

“Just _show_ her, then,” Natasha said, getting to her feet and picking Peter up. “Watch this, Pepper. You’re going to love it.”

While Pepper and Tony watched, the assassin carried Peter to the wall, turned him around so he was facing it, and pressed the boy right up against the blank area. Then to Pepper’s shock, she took a step back – and Peter stayed where he was.

“What did you _do_?” she asked, her expression blank with shock. “How is he staying there and not falling?”

“Well, that’s still somewhat of a mystery,” Tony said, walking over and plucking his son from the wall. Peter smiled as he was turned around, and rested his cheek on Tony’s shoulder, looking pleased with himself. “We only know some of it – and that isn’t much, because _Peter_ doesn’t know much of it, either.”

Tony told her the story, but it didn’t take long, of course.

“So he can _literally_ stick to walls?” she asked, amazed.

“You saw it,” Tony pointed out.

“He isn’t very good at getting down, though,” Natasha added. “Once he’s there, he needs someone to come help him.”

“I moved a little, once,” Peter said. “But I went higher, and couldn’t get loose.”

“Does it hurt?” Pepper asked him, reaching out and taking his hand, turning it palm up so she could look at it. “When you come off, I mean?”

“No. Not when I stick, either.”

“That’s _amazing_. Like a spider, huh?”

“Or a beetle?” Natasha asked, winking at Peter.

The boy smiled, but he was watching Pepper examine his hand.

“It doesn’t always stick,” he told her. “Only when I might fall, or something. Then I can catch myself – or when I do it on purpose. Like in the bathtub.”

Now it was Tony who smiled, his eyes amused.

“I had to get him off the wall of the tub, because he wanted to see if he would stick to a soapy wall.”

“And he did?”

“Yup.”

“Is that one of the reasons that you decided to adopt him?” Pepper asked. “To make sure he’s close to the Avengers?”

“Nope.” Tony didn’t seem concerned that Peter would worry about that – and from the relaxed way Peter was acting, _he_ wasn't concerned, either. “I adopted him because I love him and wanted to keep him for myself. I’m stingy and don’t like to share. You know that. The Avengers will be able to help him use these abilities – when he’s _older_ – but right now, they’re just aunts and uncles that are good company. Right, buddy?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m glad I know about it,” Pepper said. “It’s definitely not something I’d want to see him do without knowing he can do it in advance. And absolutely _not_ something we want the general public to know about.”

“Nick agrees,” Natasha confirmed. “No one else really _needs_ to know.” She looked at the boy. “Don’t tell anyone at school, or at daycare, right?”

“I won’t.”

He’d kept it a secret that long. He’d continue doing so.

“Good.” She looked at Tony. “Need me for anything else?”

“No. I appreciate you coming.”

“A chance to intimidate the press?” she asked, smirking. “Any time.”

“We found a house, Natasha,” Peter said. “You should come see it.”

Romanoff looked over at the billionaire.

“You’re moving?”

“To a _house_ ,” Stark confirmed. “He wants a swimming pool and the people who live below me might complain if I tried setting that up in the apartment.”

“True.” She turned to Peter. “It has a pool?”

“Yeah.”

“And Tony has already given you ground rules about not going close to it by yourself?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah.”

It had been the first thing they’d discussed, once they decided – together – that they both liked the new place.

“Good. We’ll want to check it out,” she told Tony.

SHIELD would make sure the neighbors weren’t crazies, or anyone who might pose a threat to Tony, or to Peter, of course.

“I’ll send you the address.”

The spy kissed Peter, soundly, and left.

“I have work to do,” Pepper said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “What are you two going to do?”

“I’m going to work on my suit,” Tony told her. “I’ll be in my workroom if you need me.”

“With Peter?”

“No.” he shook his head. “Peter will be in daycare.”

The little boy smiled.

“They’re _camping_ ,” he said, clearly excited. “We’re going to build a tent, and make s’mores.”

Stark rolled his eyes, but it was obvious he was pleased to see Peter so excited.

“They’re going to pump him full of sugar, and then turn him back over to me to deal with the consequences.”

Pepper smiled, amazed at the difference in the man.

“Have fun with that.”

“I will.”

Probably.

<><><>>><<<<>

_“Where’s Peter?”_

“Taking a bath.”

_“Again?”_

Tony shrugged.

“What can I say, Agent Romanoff? He’s a little boy, and they tend to get dirty, quickly. What did you learn?”

_“The school is ready for him to come back – the security resource officer and the Vice Principal should be calling you to set up a meeting to discuss their preferences for helping keep him – and their other students – on as normal a schedule as possible when Peter returns to classes.”_

“Yes. The call came in right before I went to pick him up from daycare. I’ll meet with them, tomorrow morning at the school.”

_“I’ll have Maria and Phil meet you there.”_

“Ten o’clock.”

_“Good.”_

“And the house?”

She smiled.

_“It’s nice. A little big for a single guy and an undersized eight year old, don’t you think?”_

“Probably.”

_“The neighbors aren’t raising any red flags, and the security system is in place. I assume you’ll be taking care of the upgrades?”_

“Of course. JARVIS will be wired into the entire place and will handle that. No dead bodies, or haunted stories or anything?”

_“Not that I’ve found. The tree in the backyard might need a tree fort, or a tire swing.”_

“We’ll see. If Peter wants one, we’ll build him one.”

_“You’re such a softie.”_

He scowled – mainly because he couldn’t deny it, and he really _wanted_ to.

“Did you have anything else _productive_ to add to this conversation Agent Romanoff?”

Natasha smirked.

_“Nope. When are you going to move?”_

“The house needs some remodeling to accommodate my systems and JARVIS. I want it all in place before we move in. That way it’s a smooth transition for Peter – and for me.”

_“Smart.”_

“I’m a genius,” he reminded her.

_“What are you doing tonight?”_

“We’re going for pizza with some old friends.”

She smiled.

_“Sounds fun.”_

“I’ll be there,” Stark told her. “It’ll be unforgettable.”

Another amused eyeroll.

_“I’ll talk to you, later.”_

“Thanks for the call.”


	71. 71

Rhodey was waiting for them outside the entrance to the Palace. He smiled when he saw the two walk up, having been forced to park the car almost a block away.

“Hey, Cheese Pizza,” he said to Peter when the boy let go of Tony’s hand to run over and greet him. The man swung Peter up into his arms long enough to give him a cheerful hug. “Thanks for inviting me to dinner.”

“You’re welcome.”

“It was _my_ idea,” Tony said, watching as his friend put the boy down and the two men walked into the place with Peter between them. “Peter just made the call.”

“Is that true?” Rhodes asked.

Peter grinned.

“Yeah. Only JARVIS called. Not me.”

“Well, I still think it was nice of you,” he was told. “Tony only wants me to come because he’s hoping I’m going to pay the bill.”

“Wrong again,” Stark said. “You’re coming so I have another superhero to buffer against all the kids from Peter’s old home.”

Rhodes smiled at that. He didn’t mind, and he knew it was probably pretty close to the truth. They were there on the normal night that the Tatros took the kids to the pizza place, and when Tony had called and asked if they minded if they joined them, the reply had made sure they knew they were welcomed.

James liked children, so it wasn't a big deal to him to have them around.

Not surprisingly, considering it was pizza – and _Ironman_ – all of the kids from the home were there. Tony had passed on the request that Eric not spread word that they’d be showing up, so while the boys all knew who he was and were excited to see him, they were able to slip into the room and join the others at the table without too much hassle. Peter hugged Eric, and then his wife and then Ned, while Tony introduced Rhodey to the others. Peter sat between Ned and Eric, and Stark smiled at the way Eric’s big hand came to rest on the boy’s head, casually.

“You look great, Peter,” Tatro told him. “Are you sleeping, more?”

“No,” Peter replied honestly. “Well, I did when I was sick, but not now.”

“Caught a cold, huh?”

Tony smirked, ignoring the way the older boys were taking pictures of Rhodey. He’d met them all on Christmas, so while they were still awed at being so close to him, they were really excited at the chance to meet another Avenger. Which was fine, because it gave him a chance to watch Peter and Eric, and gave Peter a chance to see his friends.

“Then he gave it to all of the others,” Stark said.

“He was always a sharer.”

“How do you like living with Mr. Stark?” Ned asked, excitedly.

“It’s fun,” Peter answered. “We went to Disneyland.” He handed the boy a keychain that he’d picked up on Main Street, and Ned smiled, widely.

“Thanks.”

“Tell Peter your big news, Ned,” Eric said, tousling Peter’s hair, affectionately.

“What news?” Peter asked, curiously.

“I got accepted into your school,” his friend said. “I’m going to start there, next year.”

Peter’s expression was suddenly worried.

“Why don’t you look happy?” Eric asked him.

The boy hesitated, going from looking worried to being afraid.

“What if they decide to put you in a different home?” he said. “Miss Marples was-“

Ned smiled.

“I don’t have to worry about that,” the older boy said, looking more excited than ever.

“Why not?”

“Eric and Nancy are going to adopt me.”

Peter’s eyes widened. He looked from Ned over to Eric and then Eric’s wife.

“You _are_?”

Tatro smiled.

“We _are_. Ned’s going to be what’s called a failed foster. We were worried about them deciding to put Ned someplace else when word got out that he was smarter than average, and Nancy and I talked it over and decided that we loved Ned too much to allow what happened to Peter happen to Ned. Or what _could_ have happened, if Tony hadn’t stepped up and taken you.”

“That’s incredible,” Tony said. “Congratulations, Ned. And you two.”

The big man smiled.

“Thanks. We’re excited about it.”

“I am, too,” Peter said, hugging Ned, tightly. “And you’re going to be in my school!”

“Full scholarship,” Eric said, proudly. “We knew Ned was bright, but not just how much until he mentioned being invited to take an entrance test.”

Probably the boy was overshadowed by Peter’s own brilliance, Tony decided. It was good to see, and not just because it made Peter so happy.

“If there’s anything I can do to grease things along,” he told the Tatros. “Make sure you let me know. Don’t be shy, either.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Tatro said. He smiled at Ned. “Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Peter?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s have some pizza. We’ve just been waiting for you guys to get here.”

“Wow.”

><><><><><

It was a good evening all around. Peter had a chance to spend time with the boys from the home – and _Ned_ in particular – while Tony had a chance to spend time with Eric and give the other man (and his wife) a rundown of the past few weeks and how he’d been coping doing the whole single dad thing when before it had only been him.

“Of course, Tony has it easier than most,” Rhodes pointed out as they lingered over the last few slices of pizza and Tony signaled the waitress than he wanted the check and not to give it to Eric. “Peter has a hundred aunts and uncles that want to take him whenever Tony will allow them to do so.”

“Including you?” Nancy had asked.

“ _Especially_ me.”

Peter had smiled, and then turned back to telling Ned all about the new place they were moving to. The other boy was excited, mainly because Stark had already reminded him that there would definitely be sleepovers and when summer came the pool could be used for barbeques and other special days.

When they finally had to call it a night – it was a school night for the others, after all – Peter hugged everyone again, and Tony took some last minute photos with the other boys before shaking hands with Eric, again.

“We should make this a thing,” he said.

“It’s already a thing for us,” Tatro reminded him. “But you’re welcome to be a part of it. We’d like to keep in touch with Peter, if we can, and I know Ned wants to, as well.”

“Then we will,” Tony agreed. “As much as my schedule will allow, anyway.”

They parted ways at the entrance, and Rhodey walked with Peter and Tony to their SUV.

“Thanks for coming,” Stark told him.

“It’s _pizza_ ,” Rhodes pointed out. “I’d do it, again.”

“You’re invited.”

For that matter, the others might be interested in coming, sometime.

“Thanks.”

They gave him a ride to his car, and then Tony drove them home, smiling when Peter fell asleep on the way. He’d always assumed it was some kind of urban myth that little kids would fall asleep on car rides, and that it was a good way to get a baby to sleep if it was being fussy, but it rarely failed that a big meal and car ride worked to put Peter out like a light, most times.

The question usually ended up being if he woke him when they arrived, or just carried him in from valet and put him to bed.

Peter roused when they pulled up to the building, though, and managed to get himself out of the car on his own. Rather than allow his groggy boy to walk, Stark just scooped him up into his arms, anyway, and nodded a thank you to the doorman who held the door for him. Peter put his arms, loosely, around Tony and sighed, contentedly, at the sensation of being so loved.

He was almost asleep, again, when Tony carried him into his room and deposited him on the bed, smiling down at him.

“Can you get yourself ready for bed?” the billionaire asked. “Or are you too sleepy?”

“I’m okay.”

“Good.” He kissed the boy. “Get some sleep.”

“I will.” Peter smiled. “Dad?”

It never seemed to get old. Tony’s smile was soft.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“Keep that up and I’m going to hug you all night, kid,” Tony told him, feeling warm and gooey inside. “Jesus, I love you, too, Peter.”

Which made Peter smile, too.

“Goodnight.”

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

He leaned over, though, and pressed another kiss against his cheek before he left the room.


	72. 72

“Now be careful…”

“I _am_.”

“You got it?”

“Yeah.”

Steve frowned. He and the others were watching as Tony held Peter up against the flat surface of the wall.

“He’s a little higher than he needs to be, don’t you think?” Rogers asked.

“He isn’t going to fall, Steve,” Stark said. “He _sticks_.”

“Well, yeah, he sticks _now_. But what about when he tries to move?”

They were at the compound in the gym, and they were there for a specific reason. They wanted to see if they could work with Peter – a little bit, anyway – to help him figure out how to unstick himself from a wall once he was stuck to it. And to maybe see if he could move himself up and down a surface once he was there.

Tony frowned, looking over his shoulder at the others and then plucked Peter off the wall where he’d stuck him, and moved him lower. Almost a foot lower. There was a mat under them, just in case, but why take any chances?

All of the Avengers looked intent as they watched the boy, who turned is head to look at them, his fingers and feet still holding him, easily, to the wall.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Move your right hand up a little,” Sam suggested. “See if you can do it.”

Peter did as he was told, and carefully – _slowly_ – the hand went higher that the other. Only a few inches, but it was moved.

Stark moved a step closer, his hands coming up to hover just under the child’s rear. Again, _just in case_.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Okay.”

“Try the left hand, now, Pete,” Steve said.

That hand moved, too.

“I did it.”

They all smiled.

“Yes, you did,” Tony agreed. He didn’t move, though, and his arms never lowered. “Try to bring your foot up, now.”

“Which one?”

“Whichever is most comfortabl-“

“The _right_ one,” Natasha said.

Better to be methodical and not let him choose, yet.

Peter did as he was told, and the foot moved – and then the other joined it without the boy being told. When that foot moved, Peter lurched up on the wall a couple of inches, and Tony automatically panicked and grabbed his little body to keep him from falling.

Peter giggled at the sensation since it tickled, and it made those watching smile. Stark rolled his eyes at his own overprotectiveness but even though he let him go, his hands were still poised to catch him. He was fine with experimenting, but not alright with Peter hurting himself in the process.

“Try it, again, buddy,” he told him.

><>>><>><<

“Hold on…”

“I am.”

“Steve?”

“Getting there.”

The ladder was placed against the wall, close to where Peter was clinging, looking down at them all with his face pale, but not actually looking too afraid.

“Hang on, Peter,” Natasha called as Rogers started up the ladder.

She couldn’t hide the amusement in her voice, though.

“Something for him to work on, I suppose,” Sam said, also amused.

The boy had managed to make his way up the wall – going a little further than Tony was comfortable with. Especially once he was out of arm’s reach. But then, he hadn’t been able to figure out how to get down, and had only managed to go even higher. Now he was near the ceiling, and had finally been forced to admit that he couldn’t get down and might need some help.

Steve had immediately gone for a ladder.

“What’s going on?” A new voice made some of them turn, and they saw Clint walking over, munching on an apple.

Natasha smirked, but turned to watch as Steve reached Peter and was plucking him off the wall, and then putting him on his back, the boy now holding onto his shoulders.

“We thought we’d see if we can help Peter learn how to climb up the wall.”

“Oh.” He smiled. “How’s that working out?”

“He went _up_ the wall just fine,” Sam pointed out.

“Getting down is going to be the trick, apparently,” Tony said, absently. He was still watching as Steve brought the boy down the ladder. “We can work on it.”

The two had reached the bottom of the ladder, now, and Tony pulled Peter from Steve’s back, checking the boy to make sure he wasn't injured – and wasn't freaking out.

“Maybe a wall in a smaller room to start with?” Steve suggested, wryly.

“Yeah.” Tony smiled at Peter, holding him in one arm, and brushing his bangs back with the other. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Steve.”

“You’re welcome.”

“That’s _probably_ enough for today,” Natasha said as Tony put the boy down once he’d reassured himself that he was alright. She smiled down at him. “You did great, though.”

Peter hugged himself with happiness at the praise. And at the first real lesson that he had had with his powers. It hadn’t gone off without any problem, of course, but it was a start.

“First time is always trickiest, right?”

“Right.”

“But you don’t practice this without someone being with you,” Tony said. “And nowhere that other people can see you doing it. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“ _JARVIS_ doesn’t count as supervision on this, either,” Tony added. “Because he can’t reach out and help you off the wall, or catch you if you fall.”

“Okay.”

“We should celebrate,” Romanoff said.

“The fact that he had to be rescued?” Sam asked, winking at Peter, who smiled back.

“The fact that he made progress. A step forward, and all that.”

Technically, it was a step _up_. But same principal.

“We’ll buy you guys lunch,” Tony said, also feeling pleased. “But then we’re going back to the city. We have a little bit of work to finish on the new place before we move in this weekend.”

“School starts Monday?” Steve asked.

“It does,” Tony confirmed. “ _Peter Stark_ will be arriving at school for the first time.”

Clint looked at Natasha.

“And we’re sure the place is ready?”

“It’s ready,” she confirmed. “Security is in place, and protocols are set up.” The spy smiled down at the boy. “He even has a _code name_ , don’t you?”

Peter’s eyes were excited.

“Yes.” He grinned at Romanoff before looking at Clint. “I’m _Mini-Me_.”

The archer snorted.

“That’s perfect.”

><><><><>>

Much later, after lunch and then the subsequent drive back to the city – and the new house – Peter and Tony were standing beside each other with an open panel in the wall. The boy was on a stepstool and was holding a flashlight, while Tony made the last tweaks to the wiring that they would need. Not to integrate JARVIS, but to make sure he had access to all of the security and the house systems.

Tony didn’t want to have to turn on his own lights if he could avoid it, after all.

“I think that’s going to do it,” he said, closing the panel and taking a step back. “Let’s give it a try.”

Peter hopped off of the stool.

“Okay.”

“JARVIS?”

_“Active.”_

“Home systems?”

_“Running diagnostics, now.”_

“ETA?”

_“If you wired everything right? Ten minutes. If I have to reroute? Undetermined.”_

Stark rolled his eyes, looking down at Peter.

“I don’t know why I put up with that cheek.”

The boy smiled.

“Because you love him?”

The fact that JARVIS wasn't a living person didn’t matter to Peter, Tony knew. JARVIS had been there for him when no one else had – even before he had Tony, or any of the avengers to go to for comfort or conversation. Tony realized that JARVIS had been there for him, too, ever since the day he’d been brought online, and the AI had been there for him when he had no one else, too. He smiled.

“Exactly.”

“Can I look around while we wait?”

“Stay in the house.”

“Okay.”

The boy headed for the room that was going to be his bedroom, while Tony went to the kitchen. He liked the layout, and the breakfast bar/island that was so similar to the one in his apartment.

_“Are you going to get him a pet?”_ JARVIS asked, obviously able to multitask.

“I wasn't _planning_ on it,” the billionaire replied. “Did he mention wanting one?”

JARVIS was still the one Peter chatted with most in the middle of the night, Tony knew. Not because Peter had secrets from him, but because he didn’t want to keep Tony awake just because he was restless, or had had a bad dream.

_“No. He specifically mentioned not wanting one, so I thought you should know.”_

Stark felt just a little bit of a relief at that. A kid was taking getting used to – although he was absolutely loving being dad and mentor rolled into one. Getting a dog, or something else? Ugh.

“Thank you.”

_“Your wiring is perfect,”_ the AI replied _. “I’ll be completely immersed in three more minutes.”_

“Good.”

He went to find Peter.

Sure enough the boy was in his room. He was looking out the window when Tony walked in.

“Are you trying to decide if you can jump into the swimming pool from here?” Tony asked, smiling. “You can’t, I assure you.”

Peter turned.

“It’s neat.”

“The pool?”

“All of it. It’s hard to take in, sometimes.”

“I can understand that. But you’re happy?”

The smile was proof of it, but Peter nodded.

“Yes. Very happy. And lucky.”

Tony picked him up. He couldn’t help himself, really, and didn’t have any reason to try. Luckily for him, Peter loved to be held as much as he liked holding him. He didn’t know when the boy would get over that phase, but he was going to take advantage of it as long as he could.

“I’m lucky, too. You’re a great guy to have around.”

Peter shivered with happiness, but couldn’t hug himself like he might have, normally.

“Thank you.”

“JARVIS says the wiring is perfect, so we can head back in a little while. We’ll stop and pick up something for dinner, and then watch a movie, or something.”

“Okay.”

Stark looked around the room, empty as it was.

“Is there anything you want to have in here that you don’t have in your other room?” he asked.

He and Peter had already discussed the plan for moving – which was stand out of the way and let a moving company handle it all.

“A _poster_?” the boy asked, hopefully.

“We can do that. Of what?”

“Batman.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still enjoying? Or is the domestic fluffiness getting old? I could start wrapping it up a little


	73. 73

It was Saturday morning, early, when Tony and Peter came knocking on the door of Pepper’s upscale apartment. She’d known they were coming, though, and was up, dressed, and even had coffee going when she opened the door. Peter was wearing his warm coat, and carrying his backpack, which was loaded down with all of his important things – for fear they’d be lost in the move, otherwise – and Tony was holding a box of donuts and muffins.

She smiled.

“You two look like you could use a place to hang out, today.”

Peter was smiling, too, and his brown eyes were shining with happiness and excitement.

“The movers are boxing up all our stuff.”

“And they kicked you out?” she asked.

“They made sure we had what we wanted, and then we left. They were bringing in all kinds of boxes, and bubble wrap.”

“Which we couldn’t help but pop some, before we left,” Tony confirmed. He handed her the box of treats. “Thank you for letting us stay here, today. We definitely didn’t want to get underfoot. Did we, buddy?”

“No.”

“Come in,” Pepper offered. “I have coffee.”

“Great.”

Peter looked around as they walked in, and he pulled his backpack off, setting it by the sofa, which was expensive but tasteful – just like the rest of the place. He didn’t know anything about the designer, or the different styles, but it looked comfortable, really.

“Give me your coat, honey,” she told the boy, who complied, and then went to sit on the sofa, but was watching the two adults – and the box of donuts.

“Want a donut, buddy?” Tony asked, well aware that he did. “Peter helped me pick them out,” he added to Pepper.

“Very nice. Is there a chocolate one?”

“ _Two_ ,” Peter confirmed. “You can have whatever you want.”

That made her smile, and she cast a glance over at Tony.

“You’re paying attention, right?”

Stark rolled his eyes.

“Yes.” He handed Peter a maple bar and put a paper napkin over his lap. “Do you have chocolate milk, Pep?”

“Yes.”

She’d known they were coming for a few days, now, and knew from Tony Peter’s go to morning drink, so she’d gone to get some the evening, before.

“Thanks,” Peter told her.

“How long will it take them to move your apartment?” she asked, pouring milk for Peter, while Tony poured himself a cup of coffee.

“A couple of hours to pack up the apartment,” Tony told her. “The majority of the time they need is for unpacking at the house, making sure it’s all where it belongs. They’re pretty efficient, though, so we should only be in your way until early evening.”

“You’re welcome here,” she assured them both, handing the glass of chocolate milk to Peter with a smile, and then sitting on one side of the boy, while Tony sat on the other. “Are you going to sleep in the new place, tonight?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah. And they’ll have all my stuff right where it was – only it’ll be in my new room, instead. Even my bed.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Yeah.”

“Before you get too comfortable, show Pepper what you got, yesterday,” Tony suggested.

The boy’s eyes lit up – again – and he handed his chocolate milk and donut to Tony, who smiled, trying to juggle his coffee and the muffin that he’d just chosen along with Peter’s. It all went onto the coffee table as the little boy tumbled himself over the back of the couch, rather than trying to squeeze between one of them and the table.

Pepper raised an eyebrow looking at Tony, but she didn’t ask what Peter was suddenly digging into his backpack for. Instead, she waited for him to return – and this time he came around to the front of the sofa and leaned against her knees, one hand bracing himself, while the other handed her two cards.

“Look,” Peter said, excitedly.

She smiled when she realized what she was looking at. The first was his official Stark Industries admittance security badge. It had a picture of Peter’s head and shoulders and the special barcode that allowed him all access to the entire building. It also had his name; _Peter Stark_. The second one was similar. It, too, was an ID badge, but this one was from Peter’s school. Again, his picture, his name and a couple of other numbers that were codes of some kind.

“It’s official, then,” she said, admiring them with the scrutiny that such precious items (at least as far as Peter was concerned) deserved. “That didn’t take long.”

She’d been the one to send in all of the paperwork that had been needed to officially change Peter’s last name to Stark, so none of this was a surprise, really. But it was still something that she never would have believed six months before. Not if she’d been hit on the head and woke up from a coma, or something equally implausible.

“We wanted to make sure it was done before he goes back to school,” Tony said, smiling at how happy Peter looked. “That way there isn’t any confusion in the system, or anywhere else.”

“Smart.”

“They’re pretty neat, aren’t they?” Peter asked, practically wriggling with happiness.

“They’re amazing,” she agreed, handing them back to him.

He looked at them for a long moment, still leaning against her leg, and Tony reached over and tousled his hair, drawing his attention.

“Your breakfast is getting cold.”

Peter smiled.

“It’s chocolate milk and a donut; they’re _supposed_ to be cold.”

“Eat.”

The boy’s smile never faded, and he did as he was told. He carefully replaced his cards into his backpack, and climbed back over the sofa, landing between them, once more and settling in, cheerfully, before Tony handed him his food.

“We could do something this morning,” Pepper suggested, handing him a napkin, once more. “If you guys want to, that is.”

“Let’s wait and see how the morning goes,” Tony replied, retrieving his coffee. “I want to be available if the movers have any questions, and Peter’s pretty content with Saturday morning being for cartoons. Right, big guy?”

“Yeah.”

He looked comfortable, Pepper decided.

><><><><><>

They spent the day with Pepper – which was probably a good thing, really. Tony was a bit of a micromanager, and without her there to reach out and take his phone from him any time he pulled it out of his pocket, he would have been calling the moving company supervisor every half an hour for updates on their progress.

“Let them do their job,” she told him, firmly, when he scowled at her the first time she did it. “If you keep pestering them, it’s only going to take them longer.”

Peter giggled at the way he rolled his eyes, and that made Stark pretend to scowl at _him_ , too, and wrestle him down and tickle him until Peter was breathless.

Rather than have them hanging out in her place simply waiting for the phone to ring – and itching to call for updates (again and again) Pepper suggested that they go for a drive. She wanted to see the Christmas tree farm where they’d found their tree, she said. Tony grumbled, but Peter looked excited by the idea, and took Pepper’s side in things, his hopeful brown eyes making short work of Tony’s protests that he should be close at hand if the movers had any questions.

They loaded into the SUV and headed out of the city, with Peter talking nonstop from the backseat for the first half hour of the drive and then falling silent. When Pepper noticed, she turned to look, concerned, and found that he’d fallen asleep with his head pressed against the glass of the window, his stocking cap cushioning the hard surface and the seat belt holding him in place as they drove.

Tony smirked, following her gaze using the rearview mirror.

“He never lasts long.”

“He’s so cute.”

“Shh,” he cautioned. “Don’t let him hear you.”

“Why?”

“Because the car is only big enough for _my_ ego.”

Pepper rolled her eyes at that, but she didn’t argue.


	74. 74

“Sure you don’t want to come?”

“Yes. Have fun.”

Tony slung Peter’s backpack over his shoulder, and offered the boy his free hand – which was accepted, immediately.

“Party starts at three,” he said. “Unless the movers screwed up. Then it starts, earlier, so everyone can help us move things around as needed.”

“I’ll see you guys there,” Pepper replied. She was coming early, to help get it all organized. “Good luck.”

They left her apartment, reclaimed the SUV from the parking garage and then drove to their new place.

“What’s your address?” Tony asked Peter as they pulled into the gated driveway that began closing behind them, immediately.

The boy dutifully spouted off the new address, and smiled at Tony’s pleased nod.

“I memorized it the _first_ time,” Peter pointed out, unnecessarily.

“I know you did, buddy,” Tony told him. “But I need to make sure. What if you go for a walk, or something, and you get turned around and have to ask a police officer? Or a _neighbor_?”

Of course, that implied that Tony had any intention of letting Peter wander around the neighborhood unchaperoned – and that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

“If I get lost, I just wait for you to come find me,” Peter reminded him. “You _would_.”

“Damn right I would,” the billionaire agreed. The garage door opened, and he drove into the spacious attached building, turning off the ignition and looking at the boy. “Ready to see how they did?”

Peter’s eyes were bright with excitement.

“Yeah.”

They walked into the kitchen, first, since it had the connecting door to the garage, and Peter stopped at the island, looking around. The coffee pot and the toaster were exactly where they were supposed to be, as was the wood knife block. Tony picked the boy up and set him on the island, even though his special barstool was in the spot Peter had requested that it end up.

“Pay attention, now,” Tony said, moving toward the cupboards and opening them one by one, allowing Peter to see what he was looking at. It wasn't exactly the same as the apartment, of course, since there were more cupboards in the house, and they weren’t in the same locations as before, but the dishes and everything were where they expected them to be, and so were the pots and pans and all the dry foodstuffs. “Are we missing anything?” he asked, finally.

Peter shook his head.

“Looks perfect.”

“Yeah, it _does_.” Tony opened the fridge and was pleased to find everything was fairly close to where it had been in the apartment’s fridge, too. “Pretty impressive, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Come here,” Stark said, picking the boy up and setting him on his feet. “Go check your room and your bathroom. Make sure your toothbrush is where it should be.”

He watched as Peter left, and then looked around the living room.

“JARVIS? How does it look?”

_“Domestic.”_

Tony smiled.

“Yes, it does, doesn’t it?”

_“Your room was unpacked.”_

“Good.”

He went to check it out, but heard an excited noise coming from Peter’s room and went to investigate that, instead. And found the boy standing by his bed, admiring a huge gift basket that had been left on the stand next to it. It was wrapped in cellophane with a bow, but Tony could see that it was filled with candy, fruit, chips and other snacks – as well as little toys of all sorts.

“Look!” Peter said, excitedly. “Did _you_ do it?”

“Nope.” He plucked the card that Peter must not have noticed was under the bow. _“Congratulations, Nick.”_

“Wow…”

Tony smiled.

“Pretty nice of him.”

“Yeah.” Peter hugged himself. “Did _you_ get one, too?”

“You don’t think that’s for both of us?”

“It has _toys_ in it,” Peter pointed out. “ _Little_ kid toys, not _adult_ toys.”

Tony wished there were another grownup around, just then, so he could make the comment that immediately came to mind. A comment that would have been hilarious, wildly inappropriate, and would have gone completely over Peter’s head – fortunately.

“We’ll have to ask Nick why he didn’t get me any _adult toys_ ,” he said, instead.

“There is another basket in your room,” JARVIS said, helpfully. “I believe it is more age-appropriate for your tastes.”

“Sweet.”

“Let’s go look,” Peter said, eyes excited.

“Not, yet,” Tony told him. “I want to show you something, first.”

The boy looked at him, expectantly, and was surprised when the man walked over to the wall, where there was a framed poster of Batman hanging.

Tony had rolled his eyes when Peter had chosen it a few days before, but Natasha had been the one to point out to the billionaire that Peter didn’t _need_ a bunch of pictures of Ironman and the Avengers on his walls. He had the real Tony Stark in his home with him. Could hug him and talk to him any time. Batman was fantasy, but Ironman was reality. There was no doubt in her mind who Peter preferred to be with.

_“What is it?”_ Peter asked, curiously, when Tony suddenly reached up and took the picture down. There was an almost unnoticeable crease in the wall behind it _“Wow! Is that a safe?”_

Tony smiled as he opened it.

“It is. And it’s yours.”

“Cool.”

“I know that you’re afraid of losing the things in your backpack, but you don’t have to be,” Stark told him. “It’ll fit in here, with room left over, and no one can get to it – even if they knew where to look.”

_“The safe is electronically coded,”_ JARVIS added. “ _It can only be opened by me, and I won’t let anyone into it.”_

Peter’s eyes grew wide. Now they weren’t excited, though. They were awed, and a little uncertain. Almost afraid, but not quite.

“It’s solid,” Tony told him, gently. “And completely protected. Even if the whole house burned down – heaven forbid – the safe will still be there, and all of your things would be fine. You don’t _have_ to use it,” he added. “But this is your house, too, and I promise you, you’ll never have to move again and you’ll never have to worry about losing your things.”

The first tear fell, then, and Tony reached down and picked Peter up, making a soothing noise when the boy sniffed and tucked his face into the billionaire’s neck.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, rubbing Peter’s back, soothingly, pleased with himself for thinking of the addition and the surprise that it had been for his boy. “You like it?”

“Yes. You’re the best dad, ever.”

Now it was Tony who sniffed, and he couldn’t help that his hold on Peter tightened, a little. They were quiet for a long moment, just being with each other, and then Tony kissed his cheek.

“Let’s go look at the rest of the house. Just to make sure.”

“Let’s go see what Nick got you,” Peter suggested as Tony put him down.

“Good idea.”

><><><><><>

It turned out to be a basket of snacks – peanuts, mixed nuts, and trail mix – and several little bottles of booze, all surrounding one very expensive bottle of scotch. Peter watched with interest as Tony opened it, sitting on the man’s bed beside him.

“No toys?” He asked when Tony had pulled the last bag of nuts from the basket.

“Not a one,” Tony confirmed.

“Are those little bottles the _kid-sized_ ones?”

Stark frowned, looking over at him.

“You’re not old enough to drink. Not even close.”

“They have non-alcoholic beer, though, right? One of May’s boyfriends was always talking about it. May let me have a sip of her beer, once.” He made a face. “It wasn't very good.”

Tony held up one of the little bottles of vodka.

“This stuff is a lot worse, and I don’t want you anywhere near it. Understand?”

Peter nodded.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Good.” He put it all back in the basket and stood up. “Let’s go check the rest of the house.”

“Okay.”

They walked through the house, which was much more spacious than the apartment had been – and had several more rooms. Because of that, they didn’t have all the furniture that they would need, but Tony (after consulting Peter) had decided that he wouldn’t order more furniture until he knew what they’d need. As a consequence, the game room that was off of the family room didn’t have anything in it, yet – although there would eventually be an impressive array of pinball machines, arcade machines and a pool table. As well as a large flat screen display on the wall for video games, or watching sports.

The work room that was next to his den had a large drafting table, as well as another table designed for building. This room had a security lock on it that Tony palmed on his way in. The lock wasn't to keep Peter out, he told the boy, but it would make sure that no one who might be there for parties, or other social events that they couldn’t get out of would manage to sneak in and see what Tony was working on,

There was a real dining room, and a sunroom, and a back porch. A small building next to the pool would house barbeque items, and pool toys and whatever else they needed, but since it was winter, it was empty, for now. Two guest bedrooms that would need furnishing before they were usable and a bathroom.

“It looks a little empty,” Tony said as they walked back into the living room.

“I like it, though,” Peter said, loyally.

“Yeah, me too.” He smiled at the boy. “Are you ready to eat?”

“Yes.”

“What do a couple of single guys with a fancy new house eat for their first meal in said house?” Tony asked his son as they walked into the kitchen and Peter climbed up onto his special bar stool.

“French toast?”

“Sounds about right.”

While Tony made them their dinner, they talked about the housewarming party that they were having the next day. Not that they had anything to plan; Pepper and Steve were doing all the planning and spearheading it. Peter and Tony only had to show up. And since it was going to be at their house, that wasn't so difficult to do. It was still going to be their job to entertain, though, Tony reminded Peter, since it was _their_ home.

That made the boy feel warm inside in a rush of something that was like excitement, but so much more profound he couldn’t even describe it to himself. He had a home, again. A place where he was going to be able to call his. His own room, with all his own things and even a safe if he wanted to put his stuff in it to make sure it was always there when he wanted it.

It was amazing to him.

Tony smiled, looking over at the boy as he pulled the griddle out.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, tenderly. “You look like you’re a million miles away, suddenly.”

“I was thinking that pretty I’m lucky.”

‘Yeah? How come?”

“Because I have you.”

With his hands full, Tony couldn’t reach out and hug him like he suddenly wanted to. His expression softened, though, and his eyes stung with unshed tears.

“You’re killing me, Peter,” he said, leaning over and pressing his cheek against the boy’s for just a moment, the griddle still in his hands. “You know that?”

He smiled, though, to show him that it was a good kind of killing, and Peter smiled back, rescuing the eggs that threatened to roll off the griddle.

“I know.”

Tony snorted, amused, and set the griddle down, taking the eggs from the boy.

“Why don’t you go get ready for bed?” he suggested. “Then we’ll eat and watch a movie.”

It wasn't a school night, but Peter hadn’t really been on much of a schedule the last couple of weeks, and he wanted to start getting the boy ready to go to bed at a decent hour, again, and into a night-time routine, since he’d be going back to school Monday.

“Okay.”

The boy climbed down the stool and started toward his room. Tony watched him go, and he smiled, again.

He was pretty lucky, too.


	75. 75

Peter roused when he felt himself being picked up, and he mumbled something even he didn’t understand.

“Shhh…” It was Tony’s voice, and it was calm and soothing. “I’ve got you.”

Peter allowed his head to drop to the man’s shoulder.

“Movie’s over?”

“Yeah, buddy,” he confirmed. “I’m going to put you to bed.”

“’kay…”

He was carried into his room, but Tony didn’t put him down right away. Peter didn’t need to open his eyes to know that he was pulling the blankets back, first. Only then did he get put into bed, and he opened his eyes when the covers were brought up over him; wonderfully soft and warm.

“You okay?” Tony asked, smiling down at him.

Peter had to smile back even as he nodded.

“Yeah. You?”

“I’m _fine_.” A kiss to the cheek “Go back to sleep, alright?”

“Okay.” He rolled on his side, though, and watched as Tony left, turning off the light and closing the door behind him. “JARVIS?”

_“Yes?”_

“Do you like the new house?”

_“Yes.”_

“Better than the apartment?”

_“It doesn’t matter to me where I am,”_ the AI told him. _“I’m capable of being everywhere, after all, so one place is the same as another. The most important thing is that Tony and you are happy with this place.”_

“I like it,” Peter said. “It’s a little big, though.”

_“It might feel that way, now,”_ JARVIS replied. _“But as you get older, you’ll get used to it. You’ll see. Go to sleep, Peter.”_

The boy did as he was told, but the room was big, and the house made noises that weren’t really loud, but that Peter could hear, and didn’t recognize. He didn’t hear the normal sounds of a big city, either, and that made things weird for him. His sleep was restless, and the outside noises invaded his subconscious enough that they made his normally unsettling dreams even more so, and he woke several times in the night.

><<><><><><>

It was Tony who roused, next, when he felt the little body join him in his bed. Sleepily, he pulled his blankets back, scooting over to make space for Peter, even though the bed was plenty big. It was automatic, though, to make sure he had the warm spot left from where Tony had been.

“What’s up?” he asked, concerned but not really worried, since he knew JARVIS would have told him if there were a real problem. He had to assume Peter hadn’t fallen out of bed and hit his head, or something. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Peter said, sounding sleepy, too. He pressed against Tony’s side, shivering just a little, and the billionaire pulled the blankets over the two of them. “Just can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

“The house is noisy.”

Tony frowned at that.

“JARVIS? Anything I need to know about?”

_“It isn’t noisy,”_ the AI assured him _. “The sounds are the usual night noises. Presumably, Peter isn’t used to being able to hear them over the sounds of the city. This property is not as congested, and the acoustics are dissimilar. It is safe to assume he is unsettled by it.”_

Tony chuckled.

“Hear that?”

“Yes.”

“Want to sleep with me, tonight?”

“Please?”

“Yeah.”

There was a soft sigh – _relief_? Maybe just contentment. Peter tucked himself against Tony’s side, a little arm coming around him as well as it could.

“Not _every_ time,” the boy assured him, and now he sounded like he was falling asleep, once more. “Just tonight.”

“It’s fine, buddy,” Tony said. “We’ll worry about the big stuff, and let the little things figure themselves out.”

“’kay.”

The room went still as the two went back to sleep. Knowing Tony as well as he did, JARVIS silently accessed resources designed to assist children adjusting to new places and spaces, and had a comprehensive file soon ready for Tony to look at when he woke the next morning. Then the AI turned its formidable attentions to monitoring the perimeter of the small estate, just to get an idea of what might make noises that Peter could hear, and cataloging them for future references.

><><>><><><

“I was thinking we might take a _walk_ …”

Peter looked up from his bowl of cereal.

“ _Outside_?”

Tony rolled his eyes, amused.

“We _could_ walk around the living room a few times, instead.”

The boy smiled, realizing what he’d said.

“I meant; _here_? Or somewhere else?”

“Here. We could bundle up and go look around. See what there is around here. Get some fresh air and a little exercise. What do you think?”

Lord knew _Tony_ wasn't the biggest proponent of fresh air and wholesome activities, but Peter had been inside almost continuously since they’d returned from Disney, and yes it was winter and was cold out, but they had coats and it wouldn’t kill him to take a walk with his son, now would it?

“I’d like that.”

“Good. Finish eating, first, though.”

He’d woken with Peter sprawled across his chest, belly down and head resting on his left forearm, while his feet were stuck somewhere around his right armpit. The boy had been a bit restless all night, keeping Tony from sleeping soundly, but as far as he knew there hadn’t been any bad dreams – or even _weird_ ones. Just the new surroundings keeping him from truly getting comfortable.

The billionaire wasn't worried; Peter would settle in just fine, and if he needed to help that along, he’d get a psychologist for him to talk to. It might not be bad idea, anyway, he thought, privately, as he watched the boy cheerfully devour a bowl of oatmeal that had chocolate milk poured over it.

_That_ couldn’t be normal.

He finished his muffin and coffee about the same time Peter finished his breakfast. They cleaned up what little mess they made and went to put on coats, boots and – for Peter – mittens. Then they went outside into the clear and cold morning. The walk to the gate that protected the driveway from the rest of the world wasn't a quick one, especially with Peter’s short legs, but the boy was in high, cheerful, spirits, and since they were within the safe confines of the small estate’s perimeter fencing, Tony didn’t insist on keeping him reined in. For every step Tony took, Peter must have taken five or six. He ran around the man as they walked, he chased after a squirrel and laughed when it climbed a tree and scolded him, which made Tony smile.

“We’ll find a feeder or something,” he said. “To make up for you being an annoying neighbor.”

The boy nodded, and ran the other direction, then, enjoying the fresh air and the company in equal parts. The driveway was long and wide. It had solar heating under the surface which kept it free of ice even on the coldest of days, so Tony simply tucked his hands in his pockets and watched as Peter ran around him, getting familiar with their new house, and the property around it.

And wear himself down, just a little, maybe.

He didn’t call him to his side until they reached the gate, and Peter smiled, his eyes happy and his cheeks flushed with cold. They hadn’t looked around the neighborhood, yet, although they both knew that Natasha and some of the SHIELD agents had. Carefully. There weren’t many houses in the area and they all had gates and privacy hedges. There was a sidewalk, though, that meandered around the front of each estate, following the curve of the road and giving them a safe place to walk.

Tony offered Peter his hand and the boy took it. They weren’t in any hurry, after all. The house was ready for their housewarming party, and no one was going to be there for hours, yet. Since Peter had flitted from tree to tree and pretty much checked out each hedge, individually, he was sufficiently mellowed to be able to settle into a walking pace beside Tony, now – although he _did_ point out the mailbox of their closest neighbor, since it was shaped like a train.

“Can we get a train mailbox?” he asked.

“We’ll see,” was the reply.

“Is that the same kind of _we’ll see_ that adults use when they don’t want to do something?” the boy asked, suspiciously.

Tony smiled.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I don’t know that _I’ve_ ever used it, before.”

If he didn’t want to do something, he usually had no problem pointing that out to whomever he was talking to, after all.

“Oh.”

“Mainly _we’ll see_ because we might find a cooler mailbox than a train,” Tony explained as they walked. “Maybe we’ll get something that defines us, better. Neither of us are into model trains, or toy trains, really. Right?”

Peter had to admit that he wasn't. A train hadn’t been on his Christmas wish list, after all – even though he’d found one under the tree.

“Yeah.”

“So, _we’ll see_ ,” the billionaire said, again, squeezing the hand he was holding. “Who knows? Maybe someone will bring us a new mailbox.”

_“Santa?”_

Tony smiled.

“I was thinking more along the line of a _housewarming_ gift,” he explained. “It’s customary to bring things to help the new homeowner settle into their house, easier. Like towels, and bedding, and maybe a ping pong table.”

“We already have most of that.”

“True.”

As they were talking, they were walking, and they were passing a gate two driveways down from their own when they were hailed by a feminine voice. Tony’s softly uttered curse wasn't missed by Peter as they stopped their walk and turned toward the source. A woman was coming through a smaller side gate, not the driveway one, and Peter was excited to see that she had a dog on a leash. A long-haired one that was yellowish brown.

_She_ looked excited, too, but was clearly trying to hide it.

“Mr. Stark?” she offered him her hand – the one that wasn't holding the leash – and the dog walked over and stuck his nose into Peter’s chest, demanding attention from the boy. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Faith Dickerson.” She smiled down at Peter, who was already petting the dog’s face. “ _You_ must be Peter.”

He smiled up at her, the dog making him too happy to even turn shy and hide behind Tony like he might normally have done.

“Hi.”

“I was hoping for a chance to see you and welcome you to the neighborhood,” the neighbor said, cheerfully. “How do you like it, so far?”

“It’s neat,” Peter told her.

“We were just taking a walk,” Tony added, not wanting Peter to get into the habit of talking to strangers. Even ones who didn’t seem to be a threat, like the woman in front of them. “To get a better look at the place.”

“I’ll walk with you,” she offered. “If you want. I can tell you more about your neighbors.”

Before Tony could decline, thinking that the last thing he really wanted was to spend time with the neighbors, Peter spoke up.

“Can I walk your dog?”


	76. 76

The woman looked at Tony, automatically assuming – _correctly_ – that that was really up to him, and not her. Of course, Peter looked so hopeful and excited, that the response was a given.

“Is it safe?” he asked, not too concerned that the dog was vicious. It was schmoozing with Peter pretty cheerfully, after all. “He’s not going to eat him?”

“ _She_ ,” the woman corrected, with a smile. “And no; she’s a good girl, aren’t you, Trixie?”

The dog simply wagged her tail.

“Go ahead, buddy.”

Their neighbor handed Peter the leash, and the boy grinned, hugely, as he took it.

“Come on, Trixie,” Peter crooned.

Tony watched as the boy and dog moved slightly in front of them, but Peter didn’t go too far ahead, well aware that Tony wouldn’t like that.

“He’s cute,” Faith said, moving to walk beside Stark and matching his pace, easily. She was young, and pretty (dark black hair that was of indeterminate length since it was hidden in the hood of her coat, and blue eyes) and Tony was relieved to see that she wore a wedding ring. With a huge rock. “How are you two getting on? I understand you’ve recently adopted him?”

“Yes.” Tony wasn't a sharer, by nature, and definitely not with strangers that he’d only met. He’d _sleep_ with one (at least, he used to be willing to do that; his priorities had _changed_ , now) but he wasn't going to pour out his emotions or feelings. Or his relationship with Peter. “He’s great.”

“My husband and I don’t have children. We’re considering it, though.”

“You’re married?” he asked, pretending that he hadn’t noticed the ring.

“Yes.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “It’s an _open_ relationship, though…”

“What does _that_ mean?” Peter asked, looking back at them, and proving that he wasn't completely distracted by the dog he was walking.

The woman flushed, slightly, and took a step sideways from Tony, giving him a little more space than she had. She smiled, good-naturedly, though.

“That just means we’d love to have you and your dad come over any time. Maybe for dinner, or something?” she added, looking at Tony.

Who wouldn’t want to have Tony Stark at their dinner party, after all?

“We’ll see,” he replied. “Peter and I need a chance to adjust to the new house and the new neighborhood, first.”

And the _neighbors_ , he silently added.

“Well, the invitation is on the table,” came the cheerful response.

Then she changed the subject and started pointing to the various houses as they walked by them, telling the man and the boy about the people who lived in them. Their names and occupations, for the most part, as well as if they had children (which was only the case in one household). By the time they completed the loop of the large cul-de-sac area, Tony knew a little bit about everyone and was a _little_ less uncomfortable with Faith Dickerson.

Enough so that he was able to smile, politely, and thank her for the walk and the company while Peter handed her the leash for her dog.

“Thanks for letting me walk her,” the boy said, politely.

She smiled down at him.

“You’re welcome. If your father will let you, you can do it, again, sometime.”

The boy looked up at Tony, who shrugged.

“We’ll see.” And then he wrapped an arm around Peter, pressing his hand in front of his mouth just in time to stop him from asking if it was the same _we’ll see_ as he’d asked about, earlier. “Tell Mrs. Dickerson goodbye, son.”

Peter grinned.

“Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

They watched as she went back inside her gate, and then Tony’s hand on Peter’s shoulder steered the boy back to their own driveway.

“That was fun,” Peter said, letting go of Tony’s hand once the gate closed behind them.

“I’m glad you had a good time.”

His expression, or his tone, must have given Peter a clue that he hadn’t enjoyed their morning anywhere near as much as _he_ had, because Peter’s eyebrows creased, and he frowned.

“You didn’t like her?”

“No. It isn’t that I didn’t like her, buddy. I think she was friendly and nice to you – which is _important_. But she’s a stranger to us, too, and it’s critical that we get to know someone before we really can trust them.”

“Why?”

“There are several reasons, son,” he said.

They were walking back toward the front door, now, and Tony admired the house as they entered it. It really _was_ nice. A good place for him to raise an up and coming superhero.

“Like what?” Peter pressed, pulling off his coat and hanging it on the lowest hook of the new coatrack in the foyer. “She didn’t look like she wanted to kidnap me.”

“She might want to, though,” Tony replied. “You’re young and it’s in your nature to want to trust everyone. I love that about you, but you still need to be careful.” He’d have Natasha talk to him about it, really, though, because she was a woman and he might understand better that even a woman could be a threat. “If her and her husband needed money, or something, kidnapping you to ransom you back to me might seem like an easy way to get it.”

“But you’d know it was her.”

“Not if she hired someone else – a stranger – to do it for her.” He picked the boy up, trying to reassure even as they discussed something that could be so potentially scary. “She’s probably _fine_ ,” he said. “But let me talk to her a few more times – and maybe meet her husband – before you ask to spend any time alone with her. Okay?”

And he’d have Natasha or Nick check the whole family (and friends?) out as soon as possible.

“Alright.” Peter shrugged his acceptance, and looked at Tony, curiously. “You said there was _several_ reasons.”

“Well, she might want to get to know _me_ ,” he said. “More than she wants to get to know you.”

Peter frowned.

“Because you’re _Ironman_?”

“Right.” It was easier to agree to that than start a conversation that he definitely didn’t think the little boy was old enough to have – and he knew he didn’t want to have it for several more years, at least. He wasn't looking for a girlfriend, just then. Especially a married one. And he definitely didn’t want a fling. “Because I’m Ironman.”

“She seemed friendly.”

“And she might be,” Tony pointed out. “I hope she is. I hope all the neighbors are, because this is where we live, and we should get to know the people in our neighborhood. If for no other reason than because then we’ll know if someone is there that doesn’t belong.” He hugged Peter. “I didn’t tell you this because I want to worry you. I just wanted to remind you that you have to be careful. At least with strangers – especially right now. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Kind of. He rested his cheek on Tony’s shoulder. Not because he was upset and needed the comforting that their position provided, but because it had been a very long time since he’d been in a position to be able to demand such attention, and he was wallowing in the sensation of being so important to Tony. “Being a superhero is more complicated than I thought it would be.”

Stark smiled, settling himself on the sofa with Peter now in his lap.

“It’s tricky, sometimes,” he agreed. “But it’s still a good gig, if you have the right sidekick.”

“Like me?” Peter hazarded.

“Exactly,” Tony said. “Ironman and _Sticky Boy_.”

Peter’s laugh in his ear made the billionaire smile.

“I don’t want to be Sticky Boy.”

“Teflon Man?”

“No.”

Peter didn’t even know what that meant, but he didn’t like the sound of it.

“Wall Climber?”

“No. Well, maybe.”

“You have plenty of time to figure out the perfect name,” Tony reminded him, turning his head to look at him and try to get an idea of his state of mind. He looked fine, really. Cheerful brown eyes were looking back at him, and his smile was as happy as ever. “Why don’t we go play Legos until lunchtime? The others are going to start showing up around three.”

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the silence! It was family reunion weekend and I was doing a bit of traveling. Hope you are all safe and well


	77. 77

Pepper and Steve were the first to arrive, and they were there an hour earlier than the others were scheduled. They didn’t catch Tony and Peter unaware, of course. Not with JARVIS being in complete control of the security cameras and the gate to the driveway. So when the sportscar pulled up to the front, followed by the dark SUV, Peter and Tony were at the door, waiting, and shivering just a little in the chilly afternoon air.

The little boy waited for the cars to come to a complete stop – mainly because Tony had taken a handful of the back of his sweatshirt to hold him in place until they did – and then he ran over to the sportscar, first, waiting impatiently while Pepper opened the door.

“Pepper!”

The cheerful greeting was irresistible, and she made a soft noise and hugged him, close.

“Hello, Peter. How are you?”

“Good.” He hugged her, tightly, for a moment before releasing her. “We played Legos and went for a walk and I got to walk Trixie.”

Pepper smiled down at Peter before looking at Tony, who had walked over to greet Steve, but had then joined Pepper and Peter, with Rogers beside him.

“Who’s Trixie?” she asked, curiously. “Tell me it isn’t a hooker.”

Tony snorted, and the sound was echoed by Steve’s amused chuckle.

“Trixie is the neighbor’s dog,” he told them both. “We were out walking and met them. Come inside and you can hear all about them while I’m not freezing my rear end off.”

“We have some things to bring in,” Steve said. He looked down at Peter, tousling his hair in greeting and making the boy smile up at him. “Come help me?”

“Yeah.”

“A _lot_ of things,” Pepper added, looking pointedly at Tony. “We might need more help than Peter can provide.”

The billionaire rolled his eyes, but it was a good-natured gesture.

“He’s a pretty strong little guy.”

Steve had already led the boy to the back of the SUV, and was opening it when Tony and Pepper joined them.

“Wow! You do have a lot of stuff,” Peter said, excitedly.

“Well, how many housewarming parties do you think you’re going to have in your lifetime?” Steve asked – although he privately agreed. The SUV was loaded with bags of food, and party favors and decorations. “We wanted to make sure we did it right.”

“Is there a cake?” Stark asked, hopefully.

Pepper nodded.

“It’s in my car.”

They began gathering up the bags, and just as a way of testing him, Steve and Tony couldn’t help but load Peter with several of them. Pepper frowned, but had to admit that the little boy wasn't even straining as Tony kept handing them to him, until he had several. Only the fact that his hands were too little to hold more kept him from taking all of them, most likely.

“That’s _amazing_ ,” Steve said, shaking his head as Peter headed for the front door of the house, following Pepper, who had a couple of bags, herself.

“Right?” Tony was just as impressed, of course. “He’s an amazing little guy.”

“And to think; you used to be _afraid_ of him.”

Stark rolled his eyes.

“I wasn't afraid of him,” he corrected, reaching for a few of the remaining bags, but purposefully leaving the ones that looked heavy for Steve to deal with. “I was annoyed by him. There’s a difference.”

“Uh huh.”

The men carried their load into the house and set it with the rest on the kitchen island, then Pepper sent Tony out to her car to get the cake.

“How do you like the place?” Pepper asked Peter, who had climbed up on his special bar chair to see what they’d brought with them. “Anything missing that you can think of and haven’t told Tony?”

He smiled and shook his head.

“I like it,” he assured her. “It’s big, but Tony says we’ll get used to it.”

“You need some more furnishings,” Steve told him.

“That’s what Tony said, too.”

“He’s right,” Pepper said. “And a play area out in the back yard, like the one Steve built you at the compound.”

She looked at Rogers, pointedly, and he nodded, smiling good-naturedly.

“We could do that.”

“Do what?” Tony asked, joining them, again, and now holding a large sheet cake that was cleverly shaped like a house.

It had white frosting and there was a house that looked similar to their new home, with the words _Happy Housewarming_ in blue letters across the bottom.

“Your back yard is missing a jungle gym,” Pepper replied. “Steve and you need to rectify that.”

“It’s _winter_ , Pep,” Tony reminded her. “He isn’t going to need one until spring.”

She didn’t look convinced, but Peter nodded his agreement.

“Besides,” Steve added. “If he has one here, he won’t pester Tony to bring him to the compound to play with ours.”

“We’ll take care of it when it thaws outside,” Tony assured her.

“Can I help?” Peter asked.

“Of course.”

He grinned, excited.

“Want to see my new room, Steve?”

“Of course.”

When the boy had led Steve away, excited to show the man his room, she turned to Tony as they started unpacking the food, first, to get the perishable items into the fridge.

“How’d he do the first night in the new place?” she asked, curiously.

Tony shook his head, smiling.

“He ended up in my bed with me,” he told her. “Because the house makes funny noises.”

This last was said with air quotes and it made Pepper smile, rather than be concerned.

“The realtor has to disclose if it’s _haunted_ , right?”

“I’d think so. JARVIS said it wasn't anything to worry about, so it’s probably just that it’s not as noisy, here, and the noises that he does hear are different and new to him.”

She nodded. He’d clearly thought it out and it made sense.

“How did _you_ sleep?”

“With Peter sprawled across me and his foot in my armpit.”

That made Pepper smile, too.

“You guys probably looked adorable.”

“I _always_ look adorable,” he pointed out.

She rolled her eyes.

“Since Peter took my helper, you can hang the banner.”

He did as he was told, taking the decoration from her and allowing her to tell him where to hang it. He was used to taking orders from her, after all.

><><><><><

“This is a pretty nice set up,” Steve told the little boy, looking around the room with unfeigned interest. “It’s pretty similar to your old room, right? Only bigger.”

“A _lot_ bigger,” Peter agreed. “Look at this, though,” he said, walking over to pick up his little chair from the table in the corner and carrying it over to the Batman poster and stepping up onto it so he could move the poster out of the way and reveal the safe. “It’s a safe,” he explained, looking at Steve, who moved to stand next to where he was still on the chair.

“Wow.” He tugged on it. “I don’t see a code pad, or a dial.”

“Only JARVIS can open it. To keep my things safe.”

“Are they in there, now?” Steve asked, looking around for the boy’s backpack.

“Not, yet.”

“It’s a nice touch, though,” Rogers said, not pressing what was a very delicate subject for Peter. “No one can break into it – even if they broke in while you and Tony were at the compound for a visit and stole everything else in the house. It’s tighter than Area 51, I imagine,” he added, knowing that Peter loved sci-fi and could relate.

Even better than Steve could, really.

Peter grinned, excitedly.

“Yeah.”

The boy put the poster back in its place and hopped off the chair.

“Tell me about your neighbor you met,” Steve said, knowing Natasha would want to hear everything that happened in the initial meeting. Chances were Peter and Tony would both find themselves being interrogated later that day when Romanoff arrived. “What’s she like?”

“Her name is Mrs. Dickerson,” Peter reported, looking out the window as if hoping to spot the woman and her dog walking – even though his room was completely on the wrong side of the house for that. Which was intentional, on Tony’s part, of course. “She’s nice.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Peter went over and climbed up on his bed, looking at Steve. “I think she likes Tony, though,” he added. “And _not_ because he’s Ironman.”


	78. 78

Peter nodded. He looked at the door, which was closed, and then lowered his voice a little.

“She was looking at him like May used to look at her boyfriend. Like she wanted to _do it_. I don’t think Tony knows, though.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he didn’t send me to my room.”

“I thought you said she was married…” Steve pointed out, incredibly sure that this wasn't a conversation he should be having with an eight year old.

No matter how precocious.

“She said that they have an open relationship.”

“She told you that?”

“She told Tony. I heard. While I was walking Trixie. I asked Tony what that meant, and she said it meant that she wanted us to come over, but I think it’s the other thing, instead.”

“Did you tell Tony?”

“No.”

Steve shook his head.

“Well, that is definitely something that _he_ needs to worry about,” the man told Peter. “And absolutely _not_ something for you to be concerned with. You have plenty of other things to think about, right?”

“Yeah.” Peter smiled. “I go back to school and daycare, tomorrow.”

“I heard.”

“With _two_ SHIELD agents.”

“That’s what I heard, too.” He reached out and tousled Peter’s hair, pleased at how excited the boy looked. “You can’t ask them to do your homework, though.”

“I wouldn’t do that. Besides, Maria already told me that.”

“Good.” Steve was relieved that he’d distracted Peter from the other topic. “Let’s go see what Pepper and Tony are doing,” he said, picking the boy up, easily, and slinging him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, smiling at the way Peter squealed in happiness at the treatment. “They better not be eating that cake before everyone else gets a chance to see it.”

“Is it chocolate?” Peter asked from somewhere near the middle of Steve’s back.

“It’s _liver_.”

“Gross!”

Rogers grinned.

“There _might_ be some chocolate in it, somewhere.”

><><><><><

Tony had finished hanging the Congratulations banner on the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room, and was assisting Pepper with other decorations. Most of them were simply little houses made of paper that were going to placed all over the interior. They would have candy or toys, or money, in them and were mostly for Peter to find, but the others would enjoy the treats – and maybe the toys. He smiled when he saw Steve carrying Peter into the kitchen, but before he could rescue him, Pepper reached out and plucked the boy from Rogers’ grasp.

“We’re decorating.”

“Can I help?” he asked, looking at the decorations with interest.

They all already knew that he liked arts and crafts, and some of the decorations were as colorful as something that might be found in the daycare at the tower.

“Of course.” She handed him a stack of heavy cardboard pieces. “These are houses,” she said, demonstrating how to fold along the drawn lines and turn the top piece into a 3-dimensional representation of a house. “Want to build them?”

“Yeah.”

He started in on his project, and while he was doing that and the others were busying themselves with other decorations, Peter told Pepper and Steve all about the neighbor’s dog and how much fun that he’d had walking her.

“ _Should_ we have gotten you a dog?” Pepper asked, only half teasing. She’d been told – at least, she thought that she had heard – that Peter wasn't interested in a dog, or a puppy – or any other pet. But he certainly sounded enthusiastic about the walk, earlier. “It isn’t too late.”

The boy smiled, glancing at Tony, even as he shook his head.

“No. It’s fun to play with someone else’s, though.”

“Maybe _you_ should get a dog, Pepper,” Stark suggested with an amused gleam in his eyes. He’d been to her apartment several times, of course, and knew that her carpeting was all white. “Then Peter can come over and play with him.”

She was far too clever to be put into a corner, even when verbally sparring with Tony Stark.

“I don’t have time for a dog,” she said. “I’m too busy making you money. Unless you want me to divert my attentions to kibble, and chew toys?”

He made a wry face.

“I suppose not.”

><><><><>>

_“I’ve just granted access to a small convoy of vehicles,”_ JARVIS announced at two-thirty.

Peter had been playing with a balloon, chasing it around the living room and continually hitting it to keep it from landing on the floor, while the adults had been putting the finishing touches on the decorations and the platters of food that had been brought in for the party.

Similar to their Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve fare, but with no particular theme, now.

“Is it _Natasha_?” Peter asked, grabbing the balloon to keep it from falling.

_“Affirmative. As well as several others.”_

Tony set aside the tablet that he’d been looking at, and got up from the couch, gesturing for Peter to stop, even as the little boy ran for the door.

“You’re not wearing _shoes_ ,” he pointed out. “Wait for them to come to us.”

Not to mention, he didn’t have a coat on. Tony had done the sick kid thing, once, already. He didn’t have any intention of trying it again any time soon if he could avoid it.

The boy grinned, excited, but stopped at the door, flinging it open and watching as a couple of large black SUVs pulled up to the front entrance, joining Pepper’s sportscar, Steve’s SUV and the car that he and Tony were using, just then, for their own personal dries. He knew that Tony had a lot more cars, but they were in other houses and Peter hadn’t even seen them all, yet.

“Wow,” he said, watching as Natasha got out from an SUV that Nick had been driving, and Agents Coulson and Hill both emerged from another – along with Sam, Clint, and a woman he didn’t know. Clint smiled at the woman, and opened the back door of the car, and a boy hopped out, looking around, while the archer reached out to help a younger girl out, too. “There are a lot of people.”

“That’s Clint’s family,” Steve said, walking up to watch. “Laura, Cooper and Lila. We thought you might want some others your age, since from what we heard it was only Ned coming from the Tatro’s house.”

Besides, it was good for Peter to meet the others.

The introductions were made, but even though Peter and Cooper were similar in age – close enough that they wouldn’t feel like the other was a burden – Natasha had scooped Peter up into her arms in greeting and kept hold of him as several boxes started being pulled from the rear of a truck that had followed the others cars in.

“What are they?” Peter asked, curiously.

“Housewarming presents,” the spy replied, mysteriously, enjoying the fact that _Tony_ looked curious, too. “Just the things that you boys need in your new bachelor pad.”

Tony rolled his eyes at that, but followed Sam and Coulson, who were carrying a large, flat box that was nondescript enough that it didn’t give any hint as to what was inside – although the shape did.

“Where do you want it, Tony?” Sam asked as they went into the large (and mostly empty) game room.

“Put it in the corner, for now. By the window and the giant JENGA game.”

“Rhodes is coming?” Natasha asked, her and the boys following the big box.

The boy because they wanted to see it opened, and Romanoff because this was where the activity was going to be for a little while.

“He _is_ ,” Tony confirmed. He rolled his eyes. “He wanted to come in the War Machine suit. I pointed out that the idea is for me and Peter to be as low key with the neighbors as we can be. That doesn’t include zipping around with the blasters, waking people from their Sunday afternoon nap.”

“Or charring the grass,” Pepper added, also walking in.

Behind her came the others, and a few more boxes.

“Are we waiting for the others before we open these and start assembling?” Steve asked.

Since none of the boxes had labels (on purpose, Tony knew) Peter was wriggling with excitement, and looked hopefully at the adults, clearly saying without words that _he_ didn’t want to wait that long.

It was Pepper who took pity on him. She smiled.

“If they are put together, people can use them, today.”

“Good point.”

“What are they?” Peter asked, unable to help himself.

The little boy had moved to stand by Tony, his arm around the billionaire’s leg, but his eyes glued to all of the boxes.

“Open them and find out,” Pepper told him.

“Help him, Tony,” Nick added, leaning against the wall and looking intimidating, even in a turtleneck sweater and jeans.

“Which one, first?” Stark asked the little boy.

Not surprising any of them, Peter pointed at the biggest box.

“That one?”

“Good choice.”

With considerable help from Tony they opened it, and Peter made an excited noise when it turned out to be a pool table.

“Wow!”

Tony looked just as pleased, really.

“Nice. Thanks, guys.”

It was one less thing that he’d need to order, after all. And a great choice.

The next box was all the accruements needed to use the pool table, but the one after that turned out to be a foosball game, which also made Peter look excited. Of course, he hadn’t missed the fact that these were all games that required more than one person to play, and that meant that much more time with Tony, really.

That was a big win, as far as Peter was concerned.

The rest of the boxes turned out to be other games; board games, and a video game console – complete with several cartridges for it – and some hand-held video games.

They would still need several displays in the room, a large screen TV for sporting events and something to play the videogames on, but the room was shaping up, nicely.

“A couch in here, and we’ll have it mostly completed,” Tony said, looking pleased.

“Do you have a _coffee pot_ , yet?” Fury asked, pointedly, watching as Steve and Sam began putting the pool table together, while Cooper and Peter pulled one of the trays of pool balls and started rolling them on the top of the table, which was on the floor and easily accessible.

“I do,” he confirmed.

The others followed him, closing the door on the sound of clashing balls and instructions being unfolded.

“You met the neighbor?” Natasha asked as they all gathered around the island, being more comfortable than the table in the dining room.

And closer to the coffee pot.

“The woman two houses down,” Tony said, nodding.

He didn’t even ask how she knew.

“Dickerson?”

“Correct.”

“She’s fine.”

Meaning she wasn't on the threat list for Tony or Peter.

Of course, no one in the neighborhood was. It didn’t mean that they didn’t bear watching, as far as Romanoff was concerned.

“She has a dog.”

“Trixie.”

Tony frowned.

“You know their dogs’ names?”

“I know _everything_ , Tony,” she reminded him, much to Fury’s amusement. “I thought you already had that figured out.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Did you know that she and her husband have an open relationship?” the billionaire asked. “Know how I know? She told me. Right in front of _Peter_. Who of course then immediately asked what that meant.”

“Oh, no… what did you tell him?”

“Nothing. She answered that it meant Peter and I are welcomed to go to their home.”

“I’d advise against that,” Fury said.

“Yeah. No worries.”

He had enough friends. He didn’t need more.


	79. 79

He was relaying the story of their morning when JARVIS announced more arrivals, and it was Rhodey who entered the house this time, with Eric and Ned right behind him. They didn’t drive in all together, it was just exceptional timing.

“Found the place alright?” Tony asked, offering his hand to Eric while greeting Rhodey with a smile.

“We did.”

“This place is great, Mr. Stark,” Ned said, looking around with interest.

JARVIS must have told Peter that Ned was there, because the door to the game room opened and the boy and Cooper walked out, and Peter was excited to see his friend. Introductions were made all around, with Ned’s eyes getting bigger and bigger with each Avenger and SHIELD agent he was introduced to.

“Wow…”

Peter smiled up at Tony, who took a giant gift basket from Eric with a nod of thanks.

“Nancy and the boys told me to tell you hello.”

Tony nodded his appreciation.

“Don’t let me forget to send some cake home with you so they can be part of the celebration.”

“What’s in the box?” Peter asked Ned, curiously.

Ned was holding a brightly wrapped package, and he smiled and handed it over.

“It’s your housewarming present. And _Mr. Stark’s_ too, if he wants it.”

“Of course I want it, Ned,” Tony told the boy, expansively. “It’s probably amazing.”

“Peter will like it,” the boy declared.

“Can I open it?” Peter asked Eric, excitedly.

“You can’t use it if you don’t.”

The boy took the gift from Ned, who was grinning, now, and proved that he was an expert at unwrapping things.

“Wow!”

“What is it?” Natasha asked, curiously.

All she could see was gleaming metal.

“It’s a Batman toaster,” Peter said, practically jumping up and down in excitement.

“You make toast in it, and it puts Batman on the bread,” Ned added, helpfully. He looked pleased that the gift was so well received. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“It’s something, alright,” Tony replied, forcing a smile that made everyone who noticed smile.

None of the boys did, and Peter looked at Tony.

“Can I try it out?”

“Yeah.”

><><><>><>

“Well, you’re officially out of bread.”

Stark nodded.

“Which is just as well,” he said, looking at the piece of toast he was holding. One that was sloppily buttered and had the Batman logo toasted into it. “If I eat another piece of toast I’m going to throw up.”

“Or throw a _tantrum_?” Romanoff asked, amused.

He scowled.

“I can’t do that,” the billionaire pointed out. “It would be a bad example to Peter. Besides, _he_ likes that stupid toaster.”

Those who were close enough to hear him smiled, but Peter, Ned and Cooper were at the kitchen island and the small group around Tony were in the game room. The new pool table was having its final pieces put on, and then it would be ready to play. The foosball table had been easy to put together.

“Imagine that,” Pepper said, shaking her head.

“What?”

“You’re trying to be a good example. I _like_ it.”

He scowled, especially when the others smiled. It hit a little close to home, because it was a true.

“Don’t let it get around,” he told her, looking for a place to dump the toast, but not finding anyplace that Peter might not discover it. He bit into the 5th piece that he’d been handed since the boys had started experimenting with Ned’s housewarming gift. “I still have an image to uphold for the public.”

“Before the party begins in full swing,” Natasha said, handing her piece of toast to Clint, who was more than willing to eat it. He liked toast – and liked Batman, too, for that matter. “Let’s make sure we’re all on the same page for tomorrow.”

“Right. Maria comes for Peter at eight.”

“Maria and at least one other agent,” Fury corrected. “She’ll be lead on his detail, though.”

Hill nodded.

“I’ll be the one who delivers him to your office at the tower when school is out, as well.”

“Thank you.”

They didn’t need anyone directly on him at the office or in daycare. JARVIS was in every room and could keep an eye on things, and there were already SHIELD agents in charge of the security there. Initially put there by Fury to keep Tony safe, so adding Peter hadn’t been an issue, thus far, and wouldn’t prove to be one.

“Any questions?” Natasha asked, clearly wanting things to go smoothly and more than willing to make sure it did.

Everyone involved shook their heads. Tony looked at everyone, and then at the pool table.

“Good. Then I’m going to try this thing out. Rhodey? Rack em.”

Rhodes smiled.

“You’re on.”

><><><><>

It was a fun afternoon for everyone. The big house rang with activity and a lot of laughter. And it wasn't all the kids making that happy noise. Peter, Cooper and Ned ran through the place, alternating between chasing each other, chasing Lila, or being chased by one adult or another. They also found all of the paper houses and gathered all the prizes that were found within them. Snacks, money, and toys were always a hit, of course, and this was no exception.

The adults played in the game room, enjoyed snacks and drinks (all nonalcoholic) in the living room or stood around the kitchen chatting about nothing too important. Tony watched in amusement as Sam – sizing up Eric’s large arms and shoulders – pointed out that he’d been quite the arm wrestler back in his college days and in the military. Eric had shrugged, more than willing to be challenged. Tony assumed that he was used it, since he was a big, strong, guy and that almost certainly would always make other guys want to take him on.

Not _him_ ; he didn’t have anything to prove, but Sam wasn't the only one to step up to the island and square off against Peter’s former foster dad.

The kids had wandered into the kitchen looking for another treat and immediately joined in while Natasha smirked at the women gathered around, pointing out that she could beat all the men, if she wanted, but she didn’t want to make them look bad in front of the other guys.

By the time everyone started getting themselves ready to leave, the sun had gone down, and the winter sky was dark. Peter and Tony stood by the door, perfect hosts, and said goodbye to everyone. The little boy was the recipient of a lot of hugs and was so happy that it made Tony smile each time one of the others picked him up to thank him for having them there.

“You have a good week,” Natasha told Peter, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “If you need anything, make sure you call me.”

“I will.”

“ _Or_ he could call his dad in the next room,” Tony pointed out.

She smiled.

“What’s the fun of that?”

Tony sent the last of the cake home with Eric and Ned, reminding them that they were always welcomed, and suggesting that next time maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world if the rest of the boys from the home came, as well. Ned hugged Peter, too, and thanked him for the fun time, and Tony took a deep breath when the door closed behind Pepper, who was the last to leave.

He smiled down at Peter.

“That was fun.”

The little boy nodded his agreement.

“We should do it _next_ weekend, too.”

“That’s not how housewarming parties work,” Tony told him. “It’s one per house, and we’re not going to move every week just so we get free food.”

Peter laughed, feeling the same giddy thrill that always ran through him at any reminder that he didn’t have to move, again.

“We could have a _yard_ warming party…”

“We might do that when Spring comes,” Tony agreed, walking over and settling himself on the sofa. The others had helped clean the place before they’d gone, so they didn’t have anything pressing to do. “Maybe we’ll have everyone over to help us put together your playground set.”

Peter smiled, climbing into Tony’s lap.

“That would be fun.”

“Think so?” Tony asked, putting his arms around him, and pressing his chin against the top of the boy’s head.

He had never really considered himself to be a cuddler, but Peter had proven him wrong. He loved it. Or maybe it was just the company that he was keeping?

“Yeah.”

“Then we’ll set it up. But not until Spring. I’m not going to freeze my fingers off trying to put something together that isn’t going to get a lot of use until it warms up a little.”


	80. 80

“What are you wearing?”

Pepper rolled her eyes, amused at the blatant flirting.

_“None of your business.”_

They were on a video chat, so he could see that she was dressed in a casual top, with her hair down. Since it was getting late, he assumed she was getting ready for bed, but he’d wanted to call her.

“Be that way.”

He wasn't above trying to get a rise out of her. It was pretty much a habit, by then.

She raised an eyebrow, well aware of his proclivities.

_“Did you need something in particular?”_ she asked, pointedly. _“Or were you just checking to see if I made it home, safely?”_

“I knew you made it home,” he replied. “JARVIS told me.”

_“Your AI is stalking me?”_

“Of course not.” He shrugged. “He just knows that I’d want to get an update to make sure you’re home and nothing happened that I need to know about. If you’re curious, I can tell you when Rhodey made it home, when Eric and Ned arrived at their house, and when the Avengers poured themselves out of their SUVs and strolled into the compound, as well.”

_“I’m not sure if that’s more creepy, or less,”_ she admitted. Then she shrugged. _“Where’s Peter?”_

“In bed.”

_“So early?”_

“He’s eight,” Tony reminded her. “And he had a busy day. I want him awake, tomorrow, and he needs to get back on a schedule.”

_“That’s true.”_

He smiled.

“He _did_ argue with me, a little, though, about sending him to bed so early.”

_“That’s a good thing?”_ she asked, looking confused by how cheerful he seemed to be about it.

“It definitely is,” Tony assured her. “That means he’s getting more comfortable, I’d think. He’s a pretty serious kid, sometimes, and can get himself into a few sticky situations – _literally_ – but I want him feeling comfortable enough to be a little rebellious. Not a _lot_ , of course,” he added. “But some.”

Case in point, Peter had actually frowned when Tony had suggested that he go get ready for bed only half an hour after their late dinner.

“I don’t have to go to bed, though, right?” he’d asked.

Tony had swung him up into his arms.

“You _do_ ,” he replied. “I want you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for school, tomorrow.”

“It’s too early for bed.”

“JARVIS? What’s the normal bedtime for a guy Peter’s age?”

_“Eight o’clock.”_

“And the normal time they get up?”

_“Six.”_

“See?”

“I can’t sleep that long, you know that.”

“I do,” he agreed. “But I want you to make an honest try at it. Please?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“Do I have to stay in bed if I wake up?”

“No.” He wasn't that bitch Miss Marples, now was he? He didn’t say that aloud, of course. “If you wake up, you need to try to go back to sleep. If it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t work. Fair?”

“Yes.”

Peter had gone and brushed his teeth and put on pajamas. He’d had a bath the night before, in preparation for the party, so Tony didn’t think he needed another. He wasn't a smelly teenager, after all. The billionaire had walked through the house, making sure doors were locked and windows were secure – although JARVIS could have done it all within the space of a second – and then he went to check on the boy.

Peter was in bed, but he was rolled over onto his side, clearly watching the door. Bedtime was becoming a favorite to both of them. A quiet moment for them to be father and son.

“So, Peter Stark,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and smiling at the boy. “Are you ready for school, tomorrow?”

Peter had smiled at the name, but he nodded.

“Yes.”

“Homework’s done?”

“Yes.”

They’d done it early on, just to keep from rushing at the end.

“Know what you’re wearing?”

“Yes.”

“Then go to sleep and have good dreams.”

“I will.”

Tony leaned over and kissed his cheek, feeling Peter’s hand come up to hug him.

“Good night, son.”

“Good night, dad.”

He’d left the room, closing the door, quietly, behind him and JARVIS turned out the lights. Tony had a cup of coffee, pulled out his tablet and did some work on the specs for the new suit, but was restless, and eventually decided to call Pepper.

“I just wanted to make sure that I thanked you for the party,” he told her. “Peter had a great time.”

_“Just Peter?”_ she asked, pointedly.

“No. I did, too,” he admitted. “It was the perfect mix of little kids and superheroes – and hot women.”

Pepper’s expression was amused for a moment.

_“Speaking of hot women, did Steve tell you about your neighbor?”_

“Which one?”

_“The one who has the open relationship with her husband.”_

Stark shook his head.

“ _Natasha_ did. You don’t have anything to worry about, though,” Tony said, sincerely. “I don’t have any intention of taking her up on the invitation. No scandals or media blitzes for you to have to deal with.”

_“I appreciate that_ ,” she replied. “ _I think their biggest concern is Peter, though.”_

“Yeah. I’ll make sure he understands we’re not going to have any issues.”

_“You’re going to want to date, eventually,”_ she pointed out. _“Or at least have a hook up. If you do, just save it for some night when he’s over at my place – or at the compound.”_

He was a vigorous man, after all, and it had been a while, she knew.

Tony shrugged.

“I will. Thanks. Do I need to know anything special about tomorrow?”

He was clearly ready to change the subject.

_“The usual meetings on Monday.”_

“I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

_“Good night.”_

The call ended and he stretched.

“JARVIS?”

_“Yes?”_

“IS Peter asleep?”

_“Appears to be, yes.”_

“Good. Anything I need to know? No nightmares, or anything?”

_“Not, yet.”_

Of course, it had only been a couple of hours.

“Let me know if anything happens.”

_“I will.”_

><><><><><

He woke with a start, but even as he sat up in his bed the dream faded.

“JARVIS?”

_“I’m here, Peter. Are you alright?”_

“Yes.” Peter looked around, trying to decide what was wrong, but nothing was out of place in his room. “Is Tony okay?”

_“He’s asleep in his bed.”_

Peter wrapped his arms around himself, and not out of excitement for a change. He was awake, now, and didn’t want to stay in bed. He didn’t _have_ to, he knew, but what he wanted to do was go sleep with Tony. He just didn’t want to wake him up to do it. Peter was a little guy, but he knew that if he kept waking Tony in the middle of the night, the man that he called dad was going to lose out on sleep and eventually it’d make him tired.

The bone-weary kind of tired that comes with never sleeping through the night. From worrying, even when you did sleep, and having that worry ingrained into you so deeply that you couldn’t turn it off.

Peter knew, because he was tired, like that.

He didn’t want Tony to be, too.

_“You should try to go back to sleep a while longer,”_ JARVIS told the little boy _. “Tomorrow will be a busy day for you.”_

“I’m not sleepy.” It was automatic, and not entirely true.

He was.

_“Go sleep with Tony.”_

“I don’t want to wake him up.”

_“He won’t mind.”_

Peter hesitated, tempted, but his love for Tony was enough to make him shake his head. “He’s asleep. I’m not going to wake him.”

There was a slight pause.

_“Perhaps a substitute, then?”_

“What do you mean?”

_“Your backpack is on your desk. Go open it.”_

Curious, the boy did as he was told, scrambling off the bed and walking over to his desk with bare feet not making any noise as he did. He unzipped his backpack.

“Now what?”

_“The bear.”_

There was only one bear in the bag. Peter pulled out the stuffed bear that Tony had won for him on their first real excursion out, together. It was brown and tan, with black eyes and a cheerful smile.

“What about it?” he asked, brushing it against his cheek.

_“Take it back to bed with you. It’ll give you someone to cuddle with, and you won’t have to wake up Tony.”_

“I’m too old to sleep with a stuffed animal,” Peter objected. “That’s for babies.”

_“Of course it isn’t,”_ JARVIS told him. _“Any psychologist will confirm that it is healthy to use any corporeal aid to assist in relaxing enough to allow deep sleep. Stuffed animals, security blankets and even living pets are all common sleep aids.”_

“Really?”

_“Do you trust me?”_

“Yes.”

Of course he did. JARVIS had done so much for him. The little boy only hesitated another moment before he carried the bear back to his bed. He settled under his covers, and pulled the bear close against his, certain that JARVIS had to be wrong. Before he could even come up with the arguments against the whole idea, he felt a wave of calm go through him and closed his eyes.

_“Relaxing, isn’t it?”_ came JARVIS’ voice, soft and soothing.

“Yeah.” He didn’t even lift his head or open his eyes. “It’s okay.”

Not as good as Tony, but better than being alone.

The AI didn’t bother with any I told you so. The lights in the room were all once more down low and very gentle music – the same kind meant to soothe shoppers and people in elevators – was being played. Not enough to keep the boy awake, but loud enough to suppress those weird noises that the house around them made as it settled.

Peter fell asleep, again, with the bear tucked under his chin.


	81. 81

_“It is now five-thirty in the morning and if you want to sleep in you will need to solve time dilation.”_

Stark frowned, and rolled over, opening his eyes and stretching.

“A simple _time to wake up_ would work, you know?”

_“My way is more entertaining.”_

He snorted, glancing at his watch. Sure enough, it was five-thirty, and time for him to get up and get his day started. But he might rethink not just setting the alarm on his watch, or getting an alarm clock, rather that attempt witty banter with JARVIS when he was just waking up and at a disadvantage.

“Peter?”

_“Is asleep in his bed and fine.”_

“Did he wake, last night?”

_“For a short time. I convinced him to go back to sleep, and he did.”_

“He slept all night?”

_“Correct.”_

Tony was pleased – although he _did_ kind of feel a little disappointed that the kid hadn’t come to join him in his bed. Yeah, it was probably one of things where he was too old to want to sleep with dad, and he was a pretty wiggly guy when he was sleeping, but it was still new enough to Tony that it had been endearing to know Peter slept more soundly with him.

“Good.” He tossed his blankets back. “Start the coffee pot, will you?” 

><>><><><>

“Hey, Sunshine… it’s time to get up.”

Peter mumbled something, but didn’t open his eyes, and Tony smiled when the only movement was to hug the bear that was tucked around his arm even closer.

The billionaire had gone in to check on him before he’d showered. He’d been surprised to find Peter sleeping, soundly, holding the bear that he’d won him at the carnival loosely in his grasp. Assured that the boy was fine, Tony decided to let him sleep a little longer. He’d brought his phone in, though, and had taken a picture. He couldn’t help himself; Peter was just that cute with his hair all bedheaded and his bear so perfectly placed.

Eventually, when he was twenty or something, he’d have a girlfriend and Tony could pull the photo from the archives and use it to embarrass him. That’s what dads did, right?

After showering and changing, Tony had asked JARVIS if the boy was awake, yet, and glanced at his watch when he’d been told no. They were going to need him fed and ready to go in less than an hour, so he was going to have to wake him.

If he could.

“ _Peter Stark_ …” Tony whispered in the boy’s ear. “It’s time to get up, so you can go to school.”

That made Peter open his eyes, and he smile.

“It’s morning?”

“It _is_.” Tony couldn’t help but reach out and brush those curls back. “You look like you slept pretty well.”

He sat up, and hid the bear under the blankets.

“I did.”

The action only made Tony smile and he reached for the stuffed animal.

“It’s okay to sleep with him, you know?”

“It’s for _babies_.”

“It’s for _anyone_ ,” Tony corrected. “If I had a bear, I would sleep with him, too. Not a _real_ bear,” he added for clarification. “I wouldn’t want to be eaten.”

Peter smiled at that.

“JARVIS said it would be okay. Instead of going and waking you up because I couldn’t sleep.”

“He’s right,” Tony told him. “It’s great – especially if it helped you sleep, last night.” He put the bear on Peter’s pillow out in plain view. “But it’s alright if you come wake me up, too. It’s a dad thing, I think. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Tony tousled his hair. “Get dressed, okay? I want to get you fed and ready for school before Maria and Phil come beating down the door looking for you.”

Peter nodded and pushed the covers back.

“Okay.”

><><><><><><>

Peter was sitting at his desk gathering his things for school when JARVIS spoke up.

_“The cleaning person comes, today.”_

The boy froze, his hand reaching, automatically, for the envelope that he’d set aside to make room for his books.

“They _do_?”

_“It’s one woman,”_ JARVIS corrected. _“And it’s the same one who cleaned the apartment for you and Tony. She isn’t going to suddenly start stealing things, now, but I wanted to remind you, in order to keep you from being worried.”_

“I’m glad you did.”

He was dressed, and had eaten breakfast (oatmeal and a pop tart). He’d wanted batman toast, but they were out of bread, still. Tony promised they’d stop at a store and get some on their way home that evening.

_“You can leave your things in the safe,”_ the AI reminded him. _“I’ll watch them for you.”_

Peter hesitated. The backpack didn’t weigh that much, even with his envelope of important items in it, but he knew that the AI and Tony had put the safe in his room just for him, and that Tony was hoping he would feel secure enough to use it. He was sure that wouldn’t be mad if he still took his things with him, but he didn’t want to disappoint him, either.

Not after everything that he did for him.

“You’ll watch it?”

_“Yes.”_

The AI was patient. Which was a good thing, because Peter sat at the desk for a long time before he finally made up his mind. He stood, picked up the envelope and carried it over to the wall. Moving the stool, he got up and unhooked the Batman poster, revealing the safe. It opened at his touch, and he only hesitated another moment before he put it into the space provided, absently noting that there was room for many more items if he was given something else, later.

There was a soft click when it locked upon being closed, and Peter was careful to replace the poster.

_“I’m proud of you, Peter,”_ JARVIS told him.

It made the boy smile as he zipped up his backpack – just as he heard Tony calling him to tell him that the SHIELD agents were on their way up to the gate.

“Thanks, JARVIS.”

He shouldered the backpack and hurried out of the room, eager to start his first day of school as Peter Stark.

><><><><><>

_“How’s it going?”_

“This place is a zoo,” Maria Hill replied, standing outside Peter’s classroom and looking intimidating enough that anyone who may have wanted to stop and look in to get a peek at the newest Stark thought twice about it and kept moving along. “The media finally finished and are gone, but we’ve caught a couple of paparazzi pretending to be janitors and teachers trying to sneak into the building.”

It wasn't going to happen, of course. Everyone had been planning for this day since Tony had announced the adoption of Peter, and SHIELD had assisted the school in preparing. Their security measures were up and running, all faculty, students and staff had high-tech badges and had been vetted, thoroughly. Especially the ones who would have direct contact with Peter.

No one was going to sneak in. Even if it was just for a picture.

_“How’s Peter handling it?”_

Tony assumed that was the reason she’d called him – since he’d just heard from Coulson less than an hour before with a routine check in.

“He’s worried about his bear,” she said.

_“His bear?”_

“Apparently the cleaning person is coming, today, and Peter left his bear on his bed. He seems to _think_ she’s going to steal it.”

Tony didn’t look at all exasperated by that. He was pleased that Hill was taking the concern seriously, as well, and not just blowing it off. Of course, they all knew what had happened to Peter’s watch – although how it was _returned_ was a secret that was right up there with aliens, and JFK. Maria had also been there that morning when Tony had held Peter’s backpack for him while the boy put his coat on, and had asked if he had everything, commenting that it felt lighter than normal.

Peter had surprised Tony when he’d told him that he’d put his important things into the safe.

“JARVIS said he’d watch it for me,” the boy had said.

“That’s great, buddy.” Tony hadn’t made a big deal out of it, but it really _was_ a big deal, he knew. A huge concession for the little boy. “I’m always in contact with him, so if there’s anything we need to know about, he’ll tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”

Peter had nodded, and had taken Maria’s hand when she’d offered it to him, to head out to the waiting car.

Apparently, he hadn’t put _everything_ in the safe, however.

_“Tell him JARVIS said it’s fine,”_ Tony replied. _“It’s right where it was this morning when he left. If he’s still worried, later, I’ll have someone go put it in the safe.”_

Tony thought it might be good for the boy to come home and find that nothing had happened to it, even outside of the safe.

“I’ll let him know when they break for lunch.”

_“Anything else I need to know?”_

“Phil did some roleplay with him this morning on the way in.”

_“Oh?”_

She looked amused, so it obviously wasn't anything serious.

“We took him through several scenarios – situations that he needed to be aware could, conceivably, happen.”

_“That’s a good idea.”_

She smirked.

“Phil asked him what he’d say if he told Peter that he had some candy in his van…”

_“And…?”_

“Peter told him that he wasn't that gullible.”

_“Good for him.”_

“He’d want to see the candy _before_ he got in the van.”

Tony almost choked on the coffee he was sipping, and a feminine snort of amusement from off the image told Hill that Pepper Potts was just as amused as she’d been.

_“He was joking, though, right?”_

“Of course, he was,” she assured him. “It’s rookie stuff, but we still go over it with him.”

Not that there was a chance in hell that a stranger with a bag of m&ms was going to get anywhere near close enough to Peter to offer him candy.

_“I appreciate that.”_

Hill nodded.

“They’re almost done with his class – and then it’s lunch, so I’m going to go. We’ll see you at 3:30.”

_“Have him call me when he’s done eating, before his next class, will you?”_

“Yes.”

“ _Thanks_.”

The call ended and Tony looked at Pepper who had been sitting at the conference table with him, preparing for their next meeting. She smiled, amused, and not bothering to hide it.

“Feel better?”

He’d been antsy all morning, worried about Peter’s first day but aware that he couldn’t rush down to the school and hover over him all day, despite wanting to do just that. That was what the SHIELD people were there for, after all. Imagine that, she thought, the biggest playboy in the world done in by an eight-year-old.

“Yes. Thanks.” He knew she was forcing herself not to tease him, and he appreciated it. Maybe he was overdoing the protective dad thing, checking in on Peter more often than others might, but this was all incredibly new for him, and he was reacting predictably. “Keep the bear out of the safe? Or have someone put it in it?”

He could always have an intern, or something, go over and take care of the small chore. That’s what interns were for, after all.

“It isn’t much of a safe if anyone can get into it, is it?”

Tony smiled.

“JARVIS controls the access.”

“This is the same cleaning person that you used in the apartment?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’d suggest you leave it out and let him see that nothing bad will happen to it.”

He nodded, trusting her judgement.

“Thanks.”

“But make sure nothing _does_ ,” she added.

“Yeah.”

JARVIS would keep an eye on it for Peter.


	82. 82

Peter had a good day. He was used to having people at school looking at him oddly – he was younger than everyone there by at least seven years – and in many cases _ten_ – so he stood out among the older kids. Not to mention the kids that he had classes in all knew that he was there because he _belonged_ there. He was smarter than many ( _all_?) of them. That always made him stand out from the crowd.

It was even more pronounced, now, though. Now they were looking at him because he had a new last name, and a famous new dad. A couple of them had asked him about living with Tony, too. He’d simply said it was great. Peter didn’t have a lot in common with his classmates, and rarely chatted with them about anything outside of class projects. The result of that being that he wasn’t very good at making small talk with them.

They weren’t looking for small talk, though, so it didn’t matter.

His first period class had been a bit of a thrill when they’d taken roll and he’d heard someone call his name for the first time. Tony and the others had called him Peter Stark, of course, but it was different when it was a teacher. It was more official, that way.

_He was Peter Stark_.

The high had followed him through the entire class, and then into the next.

But then he’d realized that he’d left his bear on his bed, rather than putting it in the safe with everything else, and he’d worried about it and ran all the worst case scenarios through his mind for the rest of that class. When it was over he’d had to wait until his teacher was finished talking to him about some assignments that he’d missed while he’d been gone, but then he’d spoken to Agent Hill, and had asked her to contact Tony if she had a chance. Maybe he’d be able to check in with JARVIS to make sure it was still where it was supposed to be.

When he came out of that class at change over, Agent Hill was waiting by the door. That wasn't so surprising; Peter knew she would be there. She always was close at hand. That was her job, he knew, but she was nice about being stuck hanging out with a little kid all day.

Hill smiled down at him.

“How was class?”

“I’m behind.” He wasn't worried, though. The work wasn't too hard. He’d be caught up in a day or two. “Did you ask him?”

She nodded.

“He’s going to have JARVIS keep track of things.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He had lunch, next, and she knew that he normally sat by himself in the lunchroom. It wasn't as lonely as it sounded, though, because he was usually engrossed in one project or another as he ate. “He asked me to tell you he loves you, too.”

Peter smiled at that.

“Really?”

“I’m a hardcore SHIELD agent,” she reminded him. “You don’t think I’d lie to you, do you?”

“No.”

“Good.” She double-checked the people moving in the hall around them, automatically. “Let’s get some lunch.”

Sitting with him wasn't exactly required, but it never hurt to remind everyone that he was in her field of vision at every minute. It would cut down on misunderstandings, that way.

><><><><>

_“How’s school going?”_

“Good. Mr. Fossey called me Peter Stark.”

Tony smiled.

_“Because you_ are _Peter Stark.”_

“I know. But it sounded neater coming from him.”

_“Then I’m glad he did it. How are your classes going? Anyone messing with you?”_

“I’m behind a little,” Peter admitted. He didn’t care, though, and he wasn't worried about it. He could catch up and Tony would almost certainly help him if he needed it. “But it’s fun being back.”

_“Anyone messing with you?”_

“No.” He hesitated. “Maria told you about my bear?”

_“She did,”_ Tony confirmed – even though Peter knew it had happened. _“And JARVIS is keeping track of it, but it is exactly where you left it, this morning.”_

“Okay.”

_“I have a meeting, buddy,”_ Tony told him. _“I’ll see you when you guys get here.”_

“Yeah.”

_“Be good.”_

“I will, dad.”

That made Tony smile. It was still very, very new to him, after all.

_“Good, son,”_ he said with true warmth. _“Agent Hill? You or Phil?”_

“Me.”

_“Thank you.”_

The call ended.

“What did he mean by that?” Peter asked, curiously.

“He was asking which one of us is bringing you to the tower, today.”

“Oh. How come?”

“So there aren’t any surprises. He doesn’t like surprises.”

“He doesn’t like when people give him things, either,” Peter mentioned as he started cleaning up his lunch items. Tony had offered to make him his lunches every morning – or have them catered to the school, if he wanted – but Peter liked cafeteria food and had declined. “Like when someone hands him a receipt, or a menu.”

“Yeah? You noticed that?”

Peter nodded.

“Uh huh. Did you know?”

“I _did_.” She’d read Stark’s dossier, after all. It was required for anyone who worked with the man. To make sure they would recognize if he started acting out of character. A sign that something might be wrong. There had been a psychological evaluation there, as well. “He hands _you_ things, though,” she pointed out. “That makes you special.”

He smiled, looking pleased by that, and that made Hill smile, too.

“Wow.”

She didn’t respond, and the bell rang a moment later, so they gathered up their things and headed for his next class.

><><><>>

“There’s my boy…”

Peter grinned when he walked into Tony’s office and was greeted by the man and the words. Such a simple thing to say, but it was so profound for him. It made _Pepper_ smile, too, of course. Both because Tony had said it, and because Peter was so happy because of it being said.

“Hi.” The boy stopped long enough to put his backpack on his desk, but the plate of cookies was always waiting on Tony’s desk when he was done with school. “Hi, Pepper.”

“Hi, Peter. How was school?”

The two adults greeted Agent Hill, but she didn’t stick around to hear Peter’s answer, and the fact that she didn’t do more than acknowledge the greeting was all Tony needed to know. It told him that there hadn’t been anything that needed discussed about the day.

“It was fun.”

“Did Ned start, there, yet?” she asked.

She’d heard all about that, of course.

“Not until next school year,” Peter said. “There was a lot of people there that weren’t usually.” He smiled. “A lot of reporters and cameras. But they didn’t talk to me.”

“They aren’t _supposed_ to try to talk to you, either,” Tony reminded him, pushing the plate toward him so he could grab a cookie, or two. “So if they do, you make sure you tell Agent Hill, or Coulson.”

“That’s what they said, too,” he confirmed, shoving the entire cookie in his mouth. “They said-“

“Chew that, first,” Tony interrupted. He was used to the way Peter tended to shove cookies (and bread, and crackers, and pretty much everything that he could) into his mouth like that, but Pepper had looked ready to panic. Especially when he’d started talking around the mouthful. “And don’t take such big bites,” he added. “You’re going to choke on it, some day.”

“Sorry.” He did as he was told. “They said to make sure to tell them if any strangers come up to me, or try to get me to go with them.”

“No vans,” Tony told him. “No matter if they show you the candy, first, or not.”

Peter smiled.

“You heard?”

“I _did_.” He winked, proving to Peter that it had amused him. “Do you have homework?”

“A lot,” Peter said, reaching for another cookie. “I should probably just work on it and skip daycare.”

“Do you _want_ to skip daycare?”

“No.”

“Then you can work on your homework _tonight_ , and go to daycare, today,” Tony assured him. “The teachers aren’t going to expect you to get it all done, this evening. Right?”

“Right.”

The boy gave them a rundown of his day as he drank the glass of chocolate milk and ate most of the cookies, politely leaving exactly two for Tony and two for Pepper. When the snack was gone and Tony and Pepper had both told him about _their_ day, as well, Stark got to his feet, smiling at Pepper.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he told her. “I’m going to take Peter to daycare.”

She nodded her agreement, and picked up a cookie.

“Take your time. Bye, Peter.”

Peter smiled.

“Bye, Pepper.”

<><><><><>

“So, it sounds like his first official day went pretty well.”

“It did,” Fury agreed, looking at the others, who had gathered to get the official SHIELD report from Hill. “Let’s make certain tomorrow is just as smooth.”

The agent nodded, and ended her call, and Nick turned his lone eye on Romanoff.

“What did you find out about the neighbor?”

Natasha smirked. “The one who wants to do it with Tony?”

That made Steve smile, and Sam snorted, amused.

“That’s the one,” Fury agreed. He was amused, too, but you had to know him well to see it. “What is she after – besides Tony’s… bank account?”

“She isn’t after his money,” Romanoff reported with a shrug. “She and her husband – they’ve been married for several years and there’s no indication of anything amiss there – have a lot of it. Not only is he an international broker, but she comes from big money. Old, big money. They don’t need it.”

“International broker?” Clint echoed. “Any foreign ties we need to know about?”

She shook her head.

“We checked him out before Tony and Peter moved in – and then I dug _deeper_ , this morning. He’s on the up and up – and not _completely_ squeaky clean, but close enough.”

“If he was too clean, I’d be suspicious,” Sam said, shrugging.

“So would I,” Natasha agreed. “She could just be after a roll in the hay with someone famous.”

“And the rest of the neighborhood?” Fury asked. “Nothing new? No new people moving in close by, now?”

“Looks clear,” Romanoff said. “We’re going to keep an eye on things, of course.”

“Watch for any neighbors who suddenly have family over to visit long term,” Nick added.

“I will.”

She didn’t add that she knew what to look for. She didn’t need to.

“Anything else we need to know about?” he asked the others.

They all shook their heads. 

"Tony is keeping Peter home over the weekend,” Natasha said. “He’s behind in his schoolwork because of the time off, so they’re going to have an easy weekend, together.”

“Just the two of them and their Euclidean geometry,” Sam said, shaking his head with a wry expression. “How exciting.”

“I guess they enjoy it more than rock collecting,” Clint replied.

“Rock collecting is _interesting_ ,” Wilson said, and they all smiled at his sudden show of being defensive. “There’s a lot of history in them. And _science_ , you nerds. How they were formed, when, and how long it took to find them…”

“How to hit someone over the head with one,” Romanoff added.

Barton grinned.


	83. 83

“What do you think?”

Tony made a face, and waggled his hand a little.

“It’s… _interesting_.”

Peter huffed. He knew that meant it wasn't very good. He set the drawing down on the table, again.

“I don’t know why I have to take art, anyway. It doesn’t have anything to do with being an engineer. _Or_ a superhero,” he pointed out.

“Because you need to be able to express what’s in your head,” Stark told him, patiently. He remembered having the same conversation. Surprisingly, it was with his _father_ , and Tony had been a bit older than Peter, but Howard Stark had been much less approving of the complaint. As far as Tony’s father had been concerned, he knew what was best for his son, and he didn’t want any arguing. Even crazier than having the same conversation, now, with his own son, was the fact that Howard had been right about this topic. He wished his father were there to hear him, just then. “Art helps you let others understand what it is you’re trying to show them.”

“No one is going to know that this is a guy riding a dragon…” Peter pointed out.

Which made Tony smile.

“You’ll get better at it,” he promised. “With practice.”

“I’m going to fail art class.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“The others are better.”

“They’re _older_ ,” Tony reminded him. “They’ve had years more practice. Your teacher understands.”

He’d already made sure of it, but it turned out that it hadn’t been a conversation that was necessary. Peter’s art teacher was definitely aware that the youngest student in the school wasn't _Picasso_. Yet. He’d assured Tony that he was only expecting participation and a willingness to make the attempt. He’d be grading accordingly.

Peter simply sighed.

“We could work on _math_ …”

“Nope.” Tony glanced at his watch. “It’s bedtime, Rembrandt. I want you fresh for tomorrow.”

“But I’m not tired.”

“I’ll read to you.”

“You will?”

“Yup.”

Peter could read, of course. He could read anything on the bookshelf in his room – and many were complicated books. But he loved it when Tony read to him before bed. Not only because the man would lounge in Peter’s bed with him, letting Peter cuddle up beside him and look at the pictures, but because Tony would make different voices for different characters. Peter could close his eyes and listen to Tony’s voice, and feel the vibrations go through his chest.

It was great.

He climbed into his bed and picked up the stuffed bear, which made Tony smile. Before he’d gone into daycare that afternoon, JARVIS had assured Peter all was well at home, which was the only reason the boy hadn’t begged to rush back to the house to toss the stuffed bear into the safe with the rest of his treasures.

When they’d returned home, his bedroom had been Peter’s first stop. Tony had watched as Peter looked at the bed, and had visibly sighed with relief when he’d found his bed neatly made with new, clean, bedding, and the stuffed animal in a prominent place on one of the pillows. The room had been straightened, as well, but Peter was a neat child by nature and not prone to leaving garbage laying around. And obviously not one to leave anything _else_ out, either.

The boy had opened his safe, verified everything was well with his world and had left the envelope where it was to join Tony and go to the kitchen to start dinner before they worked on schoolwork. Stark was pleased and made a mental note to speak with their cleaning person and thank her.

“What are we going to read?” Peter asked, as he got under the blankets.

“Any requests?”

Bedtime stories were supposed to be fun, and Tony didn’t allow Peter to pick anything assigned by his teachers.

“Something exciting.”

Tony went to the bookshelf, studied it for a moment, and then pulled a book out and brought it back to the bed. He handed it to Peter to check out while he settled himself next to the boy.

“What do you think?”

_“Around the World in 80 days?”_

“Yup.”

“Were they _walking_?”

The billionaire chuckled.

“It’s an old story,” he explained. Peter was way ahead in the math and sciences, but he hadn’t had a lot of focus on literature, yet, and Tony was enjoying introducing him to the classics. The bookshelf was filled with them. “About a guy who makes a bet that he can go all the way around the world in 80 days – hence the title.”

“Is it good?”

“There’s no such thing as a bad book.”

Peter cuddled up against Tony, one arm around his bear and the other hand resting on his father’s stomach as he watched him open the book. Two pages in, his head was on Tony’s chest and his eyes were closed. The steady tone and the fact that the hand that wasn't holding the book was gently rubbing his back put Peter to sleep before the first chapter was ended, and Tony read another page or two, just to make sure he wasn't going to wake.

With a soft smile, he eased Peter onto the pillow, and carefully slid out from beside him, tucking the blankets around the boy and the bear.

“Goodnight, son,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against the round, little cheek. Peter didn’t reply, but that was fine with him. He straightened, and left the room quietly. “JARVIS? You got him.”

_“I’m on it.”_

Tony headed for his new workroom to tinker for a while, still feeling warm and gooey and ready to get some work done. Even as he opened the door, though, and started pulling up specifications for the newest suit, he was listening for his AI to give him any indication that Peter was waking. It was his new reality, and he loved it.

>> <><><>><

The rest of the week went smoothly, and there was definitely a routine being created.

Peter was sleeping more – not _all_ night, _every_ night – but in the five days that week, he slept through the night, once, and the conversations with JARVIS were shorter as the AI took it upon himself to cajole the boy back to his bed and to sleep once he’d had a chance to make sure the world around him was still safe. He didn’t end up in Tony’s bed at all that week.

Stark would wake, get his morning started and take care of anything that he needed to do before going in and waking Peter. The boy wasn't always easy to wake; the extra sleep he was getting was something new for his little body, and Peter was beginning to enjoy the idea of sleeping in. Usually it was a tickle or two and a loving reminder that he had to get ready for school or Maria or Phil would see him in his pajamas when they came to get him. Peter would grin at that and push the blankets back, convinced once more, that getting up was okay after all.

They’d have breakfast together. Nothing fancy; usually oatmeal or cereal with a pop tart chaser for Peter and coffee and a muffin of some sort for Tony. The boy never declined chocolate milk, of course, and Tony would press juice on him when he could. While they ate, they discussed their day and what was scheduled, and would continue that discussion until Peter’s security person would come pick him up. Usually Maria, but occasionally it was Phil.

There would be a quick conversation to make sure everyone was on the same page, and then Peter would bundle into his coat, hug Tony and grab his backpack and go to school. Tony would sit around the empty house for a few minutes longer, making sure whatever was needed for dinner was in the fridge, and then he’d leave, too, and go to the tower.

The man and boy would usually talk at Peter’s lunch, but not for long, and then Peter would come for his treat after school before going to daycare, and Tony would come collect him when he was done working for the day and ready to go home. This was a favorite time of Tony’s. Especially if it was arts and crafts day. The kids in the daycare had figured out by then that he was Ironman and were excited to see him, but Peter was always the happiest, and would hold up whatever he’d created that day for Tony’s inspection.

The billionaire would ooo and ahhh over it, appropriately, and they’d pack up Peter’s things and go home. Dinner, homework, some together time in the game room, or Peter’s room playing Legos or even drawing or watching a movie, and then a bath if it was needed, or extra play time if it wasn't. Bedtime, complete with a book, and Tony would hang out with him until he fell asleep.

It wasn't a complicated schedule, but he’d been told it was better that way, and he and Peter both agreed.

And then, of course, the schedule was turned upside down. It had to happen. Tony was Ironman, and many of the other people in the little boy’s life were Avengers. Earth’s mightiest heroes and all that.


	84. 84

They’d just finished breakfast Saturday morning and had pulled out the Crockpot that Happy had given them for their housewarming present when JARVIS announced an incoming call from Steve. Tony handed the machine’s instruction book to Peter.

“Read that,” he ordered with a wink. “You can be chief cook in charge of dinner, tonight.”

Peter grinned and took it.

“Okay.”

Tony didn’t leave the kitchen area, but the call wasn't video, so Peter wasn't able to hear both sides of the conversation that he had with Steve. Tony’s side was serious enough, though, that Peter watched him, instead of reading as he’d been told. Stark noticed him watching, of course, and winked at him, his expression losing a little of the seriousness that had been there a moment, before. When the call ended, Tony put away his phone.

“Change of plan, little man.”

“Oh?”

Tony nodded, reaching down to pick Peter up.

“Steve needs me to go to South America with him and the others.”

“On a _mission_?” Peter asked, his eyes widening.

“Yep. Avengers only, though. So, you need to pack some clothes and some things to do while I’m gone, and I’m going to take you to Pepper’s.”

Peter hesitated.

“For how long?”

“I’m not sure, yet, buddy,” Tony admitted. “I’ll know more when I get to the compound.”

“Oh.”

He smiled, understanding that Avenger missions might be exciting, but it was also potentially a scary prospect for a little boy who was so new to the idea.

“But I’m not going to go until I make sure you’re settled at Pepper’s. Okay?”

The boy nodded. He and Tony had discussed this, of course. It was part of Tony being who he was, and that meant that sometimes it was going to be possible that an Avenger mission came up. When they’d discussed it, Tony had reminded Peter that the avengers were kick-ass fighters, and tacticians, and that (thanks to him) they had _more_ tech and _better_ tech than anyone in the world. There was nothing to be worried about.

Faced with the reality, though, he couldn’t help but be a little worried.

“You’ll be careful?”

Tony nodded, brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead.

“You know I will. JARVIS will be there, watching over me. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“Speaking of _watches_ …” Tony took his off his wrist. “I know you already have a very important one, but I want you to hold onto mine for me until I get back, okay? That way I can use it to talk to you.”

Peter’s eyes widened, and he looked down at the gleaming metal in his hand.

“ _Really_?”

“Of course. JARVIS is integrated in it. Bring your tablet, and he can teach you all the bells and whistles after I leave.”

“Wow.”

Tony smiled and hugged him.

“Go pack. And make sure you take your toothbrush – otherwise you’ll have to share Pepper’s.”

Peter did as he was told, putting Tony’s watch into the pocket of his jeans for the moment. With JARVIS telling him what he should put into his littlest luggage bag, he packed clothing and necessities for several days – just in case – and then loaded his backpack with his favorite Legos, toys, his tablet and finished with the stuffed bear from his bed. By the time he came out of his room with the backpack slung over his shoulder and his suitcase in hand, Tony had returned from _his_ room, as well. He only had a single bag.

“I just spoke with Pepper,” he said. “She’s waiting for us.”

Peter nodded and he was bundled into his coat and hat. He shoved his mittens into his pockets, and then took his bag in one hand and Tony’s hand with the other, walking out the front door and into the bright Saturday morning sunshine.

>><><><><

Pepper was waiting for them when they arrived at her door. She smiled down at Peter, who looked more worried, _now_ , than he had at their home. He’d had the entire drive to think about everything that could go wrong, after all.

“Hey, honey.”

“Hi, Pepper.”

Tony tossed Peter’s bag onto the sofa, and picked the boy up, holding him, lightly. He wasn't worried about the mission; he’d done a million of them, after all, and they didn’t call him Ironman because he was marshmallow soft.

“Now… ground rules…”

Peter was surprised enough to smile.

“Ground rules?” he echoed. “It’s _Pepper’s_ apartment.”

“You make a good point,” Tony acknowledged. He looked at pepper. “Do you _have_ ground rules, yet?”

She hadn’t even thought of any, but she negotiated billion-dollar deals and had witnessed Tony setting the rules down with Peter on more than one occasion, now.

“Of course I do,” she said, smiling at the boy. “No sneaking into the fridge of the middle of the night and stealing my leftovers.”

The boy smiled, back.

“Okay.”

“She eats spinach lasagna, buddy,” Tony said, pleased that he was losing the worried look. “You aren’t missing anything there. What else, Pep?”

“No swearing. I don’t even want to know what words Tony’s been teaching you.”

Another smile.

“Okay.”

“I notice he didn’t deny it,” she told Stark.

_He_ didn’t deny it, either – although he’d been pretty careful, really.

“What else?” Peter asked, curiously.

“That’s it. I’m happy to have you here. We’re going to have a good time.”

Peter nodded, and Tony squeezed him, tight, before letting him down.

“Happy is going to be your driver,” he told her. “If you guys decide to go do anything, _he_ needs to be the one that takes you.”

She nodded. They’d discussed that, too, of course. They would need to have a security detail on Peter – especially with so many of the avengers gone. SHIELD was going to be close – and she’d already been given Nick Fury’s number if anything came up.

“We’re going to take him up on that,” she said. “If Peter’s interested.”

“Where are we going?” the boy asked, curiously.

“A place that I know,” she replied, mysteriously. “Tell your dad goodbye so he can get going,” she told him. “The sooner he leaves, the sooner he can get everything done and come back, right?”

“Yeah.” Peter turned to Tony and the billionaire picked the boy up, again, and hugged him, close, kissing the boy’s cheek. “I have some ground rules, too…” he said, suddenly.

Tony smiled, and set the boy down.

“I’m listening…”

“You have to be _careful_.”

“I can do that.”

“No dangerous stuff.”

“When I can avoid it,” Tony hedged.

“You have to listen to Steve.”

Peter had been around the Avengers long enough, now, to know that despite Tony being the coolest superhero that Peter knew, Steve was the acknowledged leader.

“I will.”

“Even if you don’t _like_ it.”

Tony rolled his eyes, which made Pepper have to hide a smile.

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Yep.”

“I love you.”

The man smiled.

“I love you, too. Go put your bags in the guest room so I can talk to Pepper, alone.”

“About me?”

“Of course.”

The boy laughed at that and did as he was told, picking up the luggage and the backpack and vanishing into the apartment’s spare bedroom.

“You got him?” Tony asked, speaking softly.

“We’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’ll take good care of him.”

“I know.” He brushed a kiss against her cheek. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Where are you going to take him?” Tony asked, curiously.

“It’s a surprise.” She smiled when Peter joined them in the living room. “Did you bring your Legos?”

Peter nodded.

“Some of them.”

“Good.”

“And he has a book for you to read to him,” Tony added. “We’re getting to the good part. You read it at bedtime – and he doesn’t get to read _ahead_.”

“Got it.”

This wasn't news to her, either. She and Tony had had a long talk about the possibility of something happening, and she was set up and ready. As was SHIELD.

“I’d better go, or Steve will send Natasha looking for me.” He turned to Peter. “You be good, little man.”

“I will.”

Pepper swung him up into her arms, hugging him, fondly.

“He’s too cute to be anything but amazing.”

“Oh, and no climbing up the walls,” Tony added as he zipped up his jacket, preparing to leave. “Pepper doesn’t want to have to pluck you off the ceiling in the middle of the night.”

Peter smiled, putting an arm around Pepper’s neck.

“I won’t. I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll see you soon.”

He left, then, before the waterworks could start. It wouldn’t do to let Pepper see him cry, after all.

Peter looked at Pepper, and she had to smile again when she noticed that the little boy was wearing Tony’s watch.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. Did you eat breakfast?”

“Yes. Did you?”

“No. Not yet.” She’d barely started her day when Tony’s call had come in. Pepper enjoyed sleeping in on the weekends, after all. “Let me eat, and get some sensible shoes on, and we’ll call Happy to come get us.”

Peter nodded, excited by the anticipation.

“Okay.”

“Want a pop tart?” she asked as she headed for her kitchen.

“Yes, please.”

He’d never say no to a pop tart, after all, and Pepper had already made sure to have a box of his favorite flavor in her cupboard.


	85. 85

“Hey, Peter.”

Peter smiled at the greeting.

“Hi, Happy.”

The driver was standing by the rear door of the sleek, black, sedan, and he opened it for the boy and the woman who was holding his hand.

“Miss Potts.”

She smiled, too.

“Hi, Happy.”

“Boss wouldn’t let you go on the Avenger mission?” Happy asked Peter as he watched the boy scramble into the car and set his backpack on the floor before starting to buckle himself in.

Peter shook his head.

“Avengers only, he said.”

“Well, it’s better this way,” Happy told him.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t get to see enough of you.”

That made Peter smile, again, as he recognized the sincerity in the comment.

“Thank you.”

Happy winked at Pepper, and shut the back door. He got behind the wheel of the car, and made sure his passengers were ready before he started it and pulled out into traffic.

“You already know where we’re going?” Peter asked him.

“Of course, I do.”

Peter had been hoping for a hint, but now it seemed as if Pepper must have told him what the destination was before, when she’d called him to request his services after they’d had breakfast.

Pepper smiled, reaching out and brushing her fingers through Peter’s curls.

“It’ll be worth the anticipation,” she assured him.

“I know.”

He looked at the watch on his wrist, but resisted the urge to try and contact Tony, yet. For one thing, he didn’t know which buttons to push, and for another, he was probably busy, just then. It would wait until later. Maybe JARVIS would tell him when Tony was free – or would tell Tony when Peter and Pepper were done with whatever they were doing – and he could talk to him, then. The boy sat back in his seat, but watched out the window, trying to figure out where they were going by the buildings that they were passing.

><><><><><

“Wow…”

Pepper smiled, reaching almost automatically for Peter’s hand.

“I thought you might like it.”

_“Batman Land?”_ Happy asked, looking up at the sign as he came to stand on the other side of Peter. Proving that he wasn't just driving them, that day, but he was one of the designated bodyguards for the duo. “I didn’t even know this place was here.”

“One of my interns mentioned it to me a while back,” Pepper explained. “I hadn’t had a chance to check it out – and I didn’t want to come alone – so when Tony called me, this morning, I thought it might be a fun time to see what all is inside.”

“It’s great,” Peter said, looking up at the sign, as well.

It was a single building – almost a warehouse – and the Batman logo was above the main door. There was a life-sized figure of the caped crusader guarding the door, with his sidekick Robin guarding the other side.

“All things Batman,” Happy read, shaking his head. “We need to take a lot of pictures.”

Pepper smirked.

“Tony will love them.”

><><><><

“Are you _kidding_ me…?”

“What?”

Tony held his phone up so Clint could see the picture that had just been texted to him. It was Peter standing beside a Lego Batman character that was taller than he was.

“Pepper is subverting my son.”

“Batman is _Cooper’s_ favorite, too,” Barton told him. “Even better than Superman.”

Stark rolled his eyes, but looked at the picture, again, and had to smile at just how happy Peter looked.

“They need an Ironman Land…”

“They have one,” Sam pointed out. “It’s called Stark Tower.”

The billionaire smirked.

“It isn’t exactly the same thing.”

“You don’t have time to deal with Ironman Land,” Natasha pointed out from the front of the jet. She’d been able to listen in on the conversation, easily, with the intercom system. And it wasn't that big of a plane, in the first place. “Let Batman have his place in the sun.”

Tony grumbled about that, but before he could respond, another picture came through – and then another. And another. He had to smile, because it looked like Pepper (and Happy) were doing a great job of keeping Peter distracted. He’d owe them both, big time.

“We won’t be gone too long,” Clint reminded him, also looking at the photos, and understanding better than any of them how hard it was to leave someone behind while going on a mission.

“Yeah…”

It would still feel like forever, though.

>><><>><>>

It wasn't how Pepper had anticipated spending her Saturday. She’d planned on sitting in front of the gas fireplace, maybe not even getting out of her pajamas, and reading a book. Or perhaps – if she felt a little more ambitious – maybe getting dressed and going for a walk in the park and enjoying the brisk weather.

Spending the day focused on Batman with an eight-year-old had definitely not been in the script.

But it had been fun, she had to admit. She and Happy had toured the entire place from display, to display – and most of them were interactive. The boy drove the bat mobile in a 3-D video car chase against the Penguin, and solved a mystery against the Joker. And played video games, threw bat-shaped boomerangs at tin bottles and explored countless displays of all of the movies, the merchandising and especially the toys.

Always cheered to see the little boy so happy, Pepper knew Tony would want to see it, too, so she made certain to take as many pictures as she could. She sent them on to the billionaire as she took them, and would occasionally allow Happy or Peter to cajole her into being in one of the pictures, as well.

“This was great,” Peter said, sincerely, when they finally left. “Thank you for bringing me.”

Pepper nodded.

“I’m glad you had fun. So did I.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.” She smiled, looking down at the Batman t-shirt she was wearing. A match for the ones that Peter and Happy both had on, as well. “How else would I have found out what size Batman shirt fit me best?”

Happy rolled his eyes, but the normally gruff driver hadn’t been able to say no when Peter had suggested that they all get matching t-shirts (and one for everyone else, too). The boy had insisted on paying for them, and Pepper realized that she shouldn’t have been surprised when he’d pulled a prepaid VISA out of his pocket and handed it shyly to the woman behind the counter. Nine t-shirts and a child-sized sweatshirt had come to more than $300 but Peter had plenty to cover it. Of _course_ he did, she mused, shaking her head but putting the shirt on over her blouse when Peter had handed it to her. Tony wasn't going to let his little boy go around without spending money, after all, and an eight-year-old wasn't going to be carrying cash.

“It looks good on you,” Peter assured her.

“Thank you.”

“Ready to go?” Happy asked.

Pepper looked at Peter, but he was clearly ready to defer to her, because he looked at her, rather than reply.

“Definitely,” she said. “I’m hungry.”

They’d had a Bat-burger and fries, but she needed something a little greener in her system, like a salad, and was ready for a little down time.

She just hoped that Peter was, too.

“Me, too,” Peter agreed, as Happy opened the car door and he piled into the backseat, his backpack a bit fuller, and the bags with the t-shirts for the others in his hand. “Can we have pizza?”

She ignored Happy’s snort of amusement, as if the man had known she was hoping for something less greasy, and nodded, instead, as she reached for her seatbelt.

“You can have whatever you want. We’ll stop and pick one up.”

“Great. Happy?”

“I’m not staying for dinner,” the driver told him with a pleased look at being invited. “But thank you, anyway.”

He closed the door, and Peter turned to Pepper.

“Did you talk to Tony?”

“Not, yet, honey,” she said. “But he knows what we’ve been doing. I sent him pictures of everything.”

Peter had assumed that she was, but he smiled to have it confirmed.

“Then he knows we’re not sitting at home worried about him.”

“Correct.”

“Did you tell him about his Batman shirt?”

“Not, yet.” She smiled, and once more reached out to brush her fingers against his cheek. He was so cute, it was impossible to not want to smoosh those little cheeks – although she settled for the touch, instead. “Let’s surprise him with it, alright?”

“Sounds fun.”

“I agree.”


	86. 86

_“Everything going alright?”_

Pepper smiled, looking at Peter, who was watching her, excitedly.

“Everything is great. We spent the day with Batman and company, and then came home and had pizza. Now we’re just settling in to watch a movie. How are things going for you?”

_“We’ve landed at our destination – which I’m not allowed to divulge…”_ he made it sound as though someone was listening over his shoulder, but he sounded more amused than annoyed. _“And have settled into quarters that are smaller than my closet. Quarters that I have to share with Sam, I might add.”_

She didn’t feel too bad for him, and her tone made it clear.

“All the more reason to not hang out any longer than you have to, then.”

_“That’s an understatement. Is Peter available?”_

She saw the boy’s eyes light up and knew that he heard Tony’s question.

“He _is_.” She handed the phone to him. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

Peter was quick to put the phone to his ear, but then realized that the call went to video so he could see Tony, now, and the billionaire could see him, as well. He pulled it back, looking at the image on the small screen as if seeing him for the first time in months, rather than mere hours.

“Hi, dad.”

If she’d been charmed by the call, before, the way Tony’s expression softened was so endearing that she actually felt her eyes sting.

_“Hey, buddy.”_ Tony’s smile was warm. _“How are you?”_

“Good.”

_“Is Pepper beating you?”_ the billionaire asked. _“And just telling you to say that she’s being nice?”_

Peter giggled, looking at Pepper – who rolled her eyes, dramatically.

“No. She took me to Batman Land, today. It was neat. I got another Lego Batman – _and_ a Bruce Wayne.”

_“That’s great_.” He didn’t quite sound as enthusiastic as Peter did, but who did, really? _“Are you ready for bed?”_

“Yes.” He looked down at his Ironman pajamas. “But I don’t _have_ to go to bed, yet. We’re going to watch a movie.”

_“What one?”_

“Space Camp.”

He hadn’t heard of it, but that wasn't unbelievable. And he was sure that Pepper had checked it out, before approving it.

_“Alright, then. You watch your movie and then get some sleep, okay? I’m going to see what there is to do around here.”_

“Okay.”

Tony smiled.

_“I love you, Peter Stark.”_

Peter shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, but only for a moment, since it made it impossible to see Tony in the call.

“I love you, too.”

The call ended, and the boy handed Pepper her phone back to her.

“That was nice,” she said, setting the phone on the coffee table. “He really seems to miss you.”

Peter nodded, and Pepper realized that the little boy’s eyes were suspiciously damp.

“I miss him, too.”

Impulsively, she gathered him into her arms, bringing him onto her lap and immediately feeling his arms go around her. There was a soft sniff, and Pepper made a soothing noise, rubbing his back, tenderly.

“You’re so good for him…” she murmured.

“I am?”

The question came from somewhere near her collarbone, and was muffled, but it made her smile.

“Yes. You keep him from doing dumb things and getting himself into trouble.”

Another sniff.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Because you didn’t know him, before.”

“Before what?”

“Before he met you.”

“Oh.” There was a long silence. “What was he like before he met me?”

Pepper smiled, very much aware that she wasn't going to answer that question, honestly. Not as honestly as she might if she were speaking with someone older. Definitely not when replying to someone sitting in her lap because he missed Tony.

“A little reckless,” she told him. “Not as careful as he is, now. He has a _son_ , now,” she added. “That means a lot of responsibility.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“A very good thing.” Pepper kissed his cheek, and then blew a raspberry into his ear, which made him squirm and giggle – a much happier sound. “Do you want popcorn for the movie?”

“Yes.” He leaned back, and while his cheeks were moist, his eyes were fairly happy when he looked at her. “Can I help make it?”

“Of course.”

><><><><><>

Not surprisingly, Peter fell asleep during the movie. Remembering what Tony had told her about making sure that the little boy wasn't put to bed before the right amount of time had passed for the movie to be over so he didn’t wake up thinking that he’d been cheated, she simply allowed the movie to play while she did a little research online, looking for activities for them for the next day.

She rather liked the idea of going for a walk in the park, and wondered if their security detail would allow it. It was too late to call Happy and find out if he’d ask, but she could wait until the next day. There wasn't necessarily a rule that said they _had_ to do something, but the little boy was stuck in classes all week, and she was stuck in meetings all week, and some fresh air wouldn’t kill either of them. She made a few notes of other possible activities, and when the credits came on, she picked up the remote and turned the TV off.

Peter was sleeping with his head on her leg and a blanket keeping him warm, but she slipped carefully out from under him and went into the guest room to pull the covers back before she picked him up and carried him to bed.

He roused as she settled him, placing the stuffed bear into the crook of his elbow.

“Is the movie over?” he asked, looking sleepily up at her.

“Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

“I _did_.” Pepper smiled to find herself in the position she was in. Children weren’t something that she had time for, of course. They definitely weren’t in her plans any time in the near future. Of course, she had _Peter_ to spoil and cuddle, now. That was plenty, she supposed. “Go back to sleep, alright?”

“Okay.” He closed his eyes, but his hand reached out and held hers for a minute. “Night, Pepper.”

She couldn’t help it; she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Good night. You know where I am if you need anything.”

“Yeah.”

She watched him as he fell asleep, again, and then tucked the blankets, unnecessarily, around him and the bear, and then left, turning the light off, but leaving the door cracked, just a little.

Just in case.

Then she went out into the living room. She cleaned up what little mess they’d made with the popcorn, and made sure the dishes were in the dishwasher, although there weren’t enough to actually require any washing, yet. Not ready for bed, despite the active day that she’d had, Pepper went through her apartment and shut all the lights off, but stopped at the guest room door and leaned against it, watching Peter sleep.

She didn’t need to; he looked comfortable and there wasn't any indication that he was sick, or anything. She just thought that it was pretty restful to watch him. He was so little, even for eight, and so crazy good for Tony. It made her determined to be sure that the little boy had a good time with her.

Not to impress her boss, but because she was fond of Peter.

Pepper finally decided that she was tired, and went to bed. But even as she drifted off in her own room, she was still somewhat listening for any indication that her guest might need anything. There was nothing, though. With the bear tucked into his embrace, and aware that he was much loved – even asleep – Peter was sleeping, dreaming of the adventures of Batman and Ironman and the little boy that was their sidekick.

Whether they knew it, or not.


	87. 87

They were sitting down to breakfast when Peter’s watch chimed, softly, at him and startled him so badly that he dropped his pop tart. He looked at Pepper, guiltily, for making the mess and picked it up, but was excited, too, now, when he realized what was happening.

“That’s Tony!”

“Where?”

“Calling on his watch.”

“Can he do that?” she asked, impressed by the tech but not surprised, really.

“JARVIS can,” the boy replied, tapping the top of the watch as he’d been instructed by the AI during the impromptu learning course that he’d been given. “If Tony is in his suit, he can interface with anything that JARVIS can.”

_“That’s right, I can,”_ came Stark’s voice, amused. There wasn't any visual, but they could both hear him, just fine. _“Everyone’s awake?”_

“It’s nine o’clock,” Pepper pointed out, assuming – correctly – that he’d hear her just fine. “Of course, we are.”

She’d been woken at three am when Peter and his stuffed bear had joined her in her bed, needing reassurance after some kind of weird dream. Bemused at having the _younger_ Stark wheedle his way into her bed before the elder could, she’d sleepily pulled the blankets back and had cuddled with him until he’d fallen asleep. Then, rather than put him back into the guest bed, she’d gone back to sleep, as well.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked, excited.

_“Secret avenger stuff,”_ Tony replied, evasively. _“But I thought I’d call and check in with my favorite people while I had a chance – and check to see if you’d figured out how my watch works.”_

“It’s awesome.”

_“Right?”_ Tony sounded amused. _“That’s what I keep telling people, but no one gets it. What are you doing, today?”_

“Pepper’s going to take me to the park – if Happy says it’s okay.”

_“Sounds like fun. Stick close to her, right? Keep an eye on her for me?”_

“I will.”

_“You guys good?”_ he asked, and now she understood that the question was for both of them.

“We’re great,” Peter answered.

“He’s right,” she agreed. “Peter’s being an _angel_.”

The was an amused snort.

_“You can tie him up and stick him against the closet wall like one of those tap lights if he gets out of line.”_

She smirked at the boy, who grinned, clearly not concerned at the threat.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

_“Love you, Peter. Have fun, today.”_

“Love you, too.” The call ended, and Peter looked down at the watch. “That’s pretty cool…” he murmured. “I wonder if I could make one.”

“He’d probably help you, you know?” she pointed out. “If you asked.”

“Yeah.”

><><><><>

They _did_ go to the park.

Happy drove them, of course, after Pepper and Peter cleaned what little mess that they’d made getting breakfast. The plan was to spend the morning in the park walking around and maybe playing on some of the playground equipment. Then have lunch, warming up somewhere before heading back to Pepper’s place. As Happy parked the car and then walked with them onto the closest walking path, a snow-covered sidewalk that meandered through the trees and had an occasional park bench to stop and rest at, Pepper wondered how many SHIELD agents were watching them, just then.

She didn’t ask, since she didn’t want to worry Peter, who was having a good time running around the two adults, picking up snow in his mittened hands and making snowballs, which he’d throw at tree trunks. He had pretty good aim, she decided, and smiled when Happy casually scooped snow from a branch they walked by, made a snowball of his own and tossed it at Peter’s head.

The boy ducked, giggling, but didn’t engage in a snowball fight as Pepper had almost expected. Instead, he looked around them, slowing, and then moved to walk closer to Pepper, suddenly seeming a bit subdued.

“Did he hit you?” she asked, curiously, even though she knew the snowball had missed.

“No.”

“What’s wrong, Peter?” Happy asked, also catching his sudden change in mood.

“I don’t feel good.”

“Sick?” Pepper pulled her hand out of her coat pocket and brushed her fingers against his forehead. Her hand was chilled, though, as was Peter’s skin. “You don’t feel warm…”

Of course, she didn’t know how warm he needed to feel to be sick. She’d seen him sick, before, but he’d been halfway through his cold by the time she’d gone out to check on him.

“I’m not sick,” he said, looking up, uneasily.

“What then?”

“My stomach feels funny.”

Happy frowned.

“We can go back and-“

There was a sudden crack above them, a noise so loud it actually sounded like a gunshot. The driver’s hand went inside his coat, while the other reached for Peter, but the boy had stopped, and his hand had grabbed the hem of Pepper’s coat, stopping her in mid-stride.

An instant later a huge branch came crashing down onto the trail where they’d have been walking.

“What the hell?”

_“Get down!”_

Happy shoved both of them to the side of the path, pulling a gun and looking around as he covered them, protectively. He didn’t see any immediate threat. No one in the trees above them with weapons, no one running up from any direction, perhaps intending to make a grab at one of them in the confusion.

Nothing.

Three SHIELD agents materialized seemingly from nowhere, also brandishing weapons and looking around. One pulled Pepper to her feet, and the woman helped Peter to his.

“Are you alright?” Pepper asked Peter, dismayed to see that his eyes were bright with tears and frightened.

“I hurt my hand…” he said, hoarsely, holding up his right hand.

Sure enough, the mitten had torn when he’d brought his hand down to catch himself when Happy had pushed them to the ground, and it had just happened to be in the one area of the path that didn’t have snow protecting it. The little palm was scraped and bleeding from the contact with the cement.

“Poor baby,” she said, kneeling down, ignoring the chaos around them as the SHIELD agents and Happy all converged to form a protective phalanx, checking the area, carefully.

She pulled him into her embrace, deciding that the tears weren’t from the scrape on his hand, but from the fright that he’d just taken. Peter clung to her, and she could feel him trembling through his heavy coat.

“Looks like it was just a snow-heavy branch coming down,” a man in a dark suit reported to Happy a moment later. “The area’s clear.”

The driver nodded, putting his gun away and looking at Pepper and Peter.

“Are you two okay?” he asked.

Pepper smiled up at him, and turned her head to brush a kiss against Peter’s cold cheek.

“Just a little scared,” she assured him.

“Sorry about that…” Happy knelt down beside Pepper and her trembling companion. “Hey, Pete… are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

The boy turned his head, looking at the driver, brown eyes still frightened and moist.

“I hurt my hand,” he said, holding it up, although the other arm was still firmly in place around Pepper.

“Aww…” Happy took the hand in his own much larger ones to check it. “I’m sorry, pal. I acted automatically.”

“Sounded like a gunshot,” one of the SHIELD personnel said. They’d put away their sidearms, too. “Lucky thing you guys weren’t moving. That thing could have done some damage, landing on your heads, or something.”

“ _Peter_ stopped me,” Pepper said, smiling at the little boy. “He’s my good luck charm.”

The boy sniffed, but managed a shaky smile in reply.

“Let me look at that hand,” said one of the SHIELD agents, also kneeling down next to Peter. This one pulled a small first aid kit from one of his voluminous pockets and carefully pulled the mitten off to get a better look. “Saved the damsel in distress,” he said, smiling to distract Peter while he cleaned the scraped area. “Does that make this your first superhero injury?”

Peter’s smile was a little more cheerful, then, as he responded to the tone as well as the words.

“Yeah.”

“Very cool.”


	88. 88

Pepper held Peter while the medic (and why wouldn’t there be a medic in the small army of agents that were clearly assigned to shadow them?) cleaned the injury, examined it, minutely, and then bandaged it securely before announcing that it probably wouldn’t need to be amputated.

“Should we get him home?” Pepper asked, running her fingers through Peter’s hair, but looking at Happy and the medic.

“Only if he wants to go,” the man said, winking at Peter before gathering his kit together and standing up. “He’s a tough little guy. A hurt hand isn’t going to keep him out of the game, is it?”

“No,” Peter agreed. “I’m okay.”

“How’s your stomach?” she asked, also standing, now.

“It’s okay, too.”

“You don’t feel sick?”

“Not _anymore_.”

“Well, that’s good,” Happy said. The others were already working on clearing the large branch from the path. “Do we keep walking, then? Are you guys sure you’re up for it?”

“I am,” Pepper replied. She looked at Peter. “You?”

He nodded, and now he was looking animated.

“That was pretty exciting, huh?”

“A _lot_ exciting,” Pepper agreed, rolling her eyes at Happy, who smiled.

The fear was gone, and now it was an adventure.

“You’re alright?” the driver asked Pepper.

“I’m fine.” Of course, she’d landed on Peter, so hadn’t been injured when he’d pushed them down. “Thank you.”

“Make sure you tell the boss how amazing I was,” he replied.

The SHIELD agents were vanishing, now, fading back into the bushes from where they’d come swarming.

“Should I call him?” Pepper asked, offering Peter her hand, which he took with a smile.

“He already knows what happened,” Happy told her. “He’ll probably be calling you as soon as he’s-“

They were interrupted by the sound of Pepper’s phone ringing.

She walked Peter over to a park bench and sat down before answering. Tony’s worried face came up on the screen, immediately.

_“Pepper?”_

“He’s fine,” she assured him, immediately, and turned the phone so he could see the little boy climbing onto the bench to sit beside her. “Just had a scare, is all.”

“I hurt my hand!” Peter said, holding it up to show his father. “And Happy pushed us down and there were people everywhere, and I was smooshed under Pepper, but it was only a tree branch, and we-“

_“Are you okay?”_ Tony interrupted.

Peter nodded.

“Yeah.”

_“Pepper?”_

“We’re fine,” she said, _again_. “Just a branch coming down onto the path. It probably happens all the time.”

_“Probably,”_ he agreed. _“Everything else alright?”_

“I had cereal and pop tarts for breakfast,” Peter told him, crowding into the conversation, again. “We’re going to have pancakes, tomorrow. Pepper said she’s going to make them from scratch.”

_“You know how to make pancakes?”_ Tony asked her, surprised – and distracted from his worry.

“Of course, I do.”

_“You’ve never made me pancakes.”_

Peter smiled.

“I’m cuter than you.”

Pepper and Tony both smiled at that.

_“Younger, maybe…”_ Stark replied _. “But I don’t know about cuter. I’m pretty cute.”_

“His curls and eyelashes put him over the top,” she informed him. “Are you guys alright?”

_“Yeah. We’re probably not going to be done by tomorrow, though. You don’t mind keeping him through to Monday, at least?”_

“He’s good company.”

That made Peter smile. He rested the back of his head against her, but was still watching Tony’s image on the phone.

_“Happy will coordinate things with the SHIELD people. Maria will still be the one to pick him up, but you’re going to have to feed him his snack and deliver him to daycare.”_

“I can do that.”

_“And a snack for Peter isn’t celery sticks. Is it, buddy?”_

“Nope. I get _cookies_.”

Pepper was pleased to see that both of them were over their concern, now.

“I’ll take some from the stash you keep in your desk.”

_“You do that. I need to get going, but call if you need anything.”_

“We will.”

“Bye,” Peter said.

_“Take care of Pepper for me, son.”_

“Okay.”

The call ended.

“Ready?” Pepper asked, putting her phone away.

“Yeah.”

He hopped down from the bench and waited for her to stand before reaching for her hand, once more. But she saw him look up at the trees above them, suspiciously, and it was several minutes of walking before he finally released her hand and ran ahead, again.

><><><><>

The rest of the afternoon was relaxing compared to the morning.

They were in the park until hunger drove them to find some lunch. Well, technically, _Happy_ drove them there, but that was fine. He was invited to join them at McDonald’s, where Peter ate chicken nuggets and fries, happily, and then went to play on the indoor playground with a couple of other children who were near his age. Happy watched him, carefully, of course, but there was no indication that any of the people in the restaurant had any idea that the little boy who was sliding around the brightly painted tunnels was Tony Stark’s adopted son.

Eventually, even Peter began to lose interest in playing, and allowed Pepper to bribe him out of the play area with an ice cream cone. He ate it as they drove back to her apartment, and Happy told the two goodbye, reminding them that he was available the next day, as well, if they wanted to make an excursion of some sort. With an overly dramatic sigh of exhaustion, Pepper flopped gracelessly onto her sofa.

“I was thinking we’d just have a quiet evening, tomorrow,” she said, looking at Peter. “What do you think?”

He smiled.

“Okay.”

He didn’t care what they did – or even if they didn’t really do anything. Peter had plenty of chances to get outside and have fun, and he liked being inside, too. Watching movies, playing with toys, and even playing video games were all good ways to keep him occupied. The little boy sat down beside her, his coat already off and only wearing socks on his feet since he’d left his shoes to dry by the heater near the door.

“Let me see you hand, honey,” Pepper said, holding her hand out.

He skootched closer to her, and put his bandaged hand in her own, watching as she examined the bandage itself for any sign of blood leaking through.

“It seems alright,” he told her.

“Looks like it,” she agreed. The SHIELD medic had given her some instructions for caring for the scrape, but it was minor, and he hadn’t been worried about infection, or anything like that. “We’ll keep the bandage on, tonight, and see how it looks, tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to watch TV?”

He nodded, and greatly daring (considering she had a very good chance of ending up watching Teletubbies all afternoon) she handed him the remote control for the huge TV that hung over her gas fireplace.

“Thank you.”

Peter settled in beside her, secretly pleased when she put an arm around him and pulled him close enough to cuddle. He found _Spongebob_ and set the remote control aside, resting his cheek against her as the show began, and not noticing her roll her eyes – even though there wasn't anyone there to see the action.

“I had fun, today.”

Peter nodded, but didn’t turn his gaze from the screen.

“Me, too.”

><><><><><<

“Aren't you supposed to be out trying to save the world?”

_“I am,”_ Tony assured Pepper. _“But I wanted to check on you guys, first.”_

“We’re fine.”

_“How’s Peter’s hand?”_

“It’s probably going to have to be amputated,” she said. She smiled at the little boy, who had turned the TV off when Tony’s call to Pepper had interrupted their Spongebob marathon. “Show him your hand, honey.”

Peter smiled, too, and dutifully held up his bandaged hand.

_“Does it hurt, buddy?”_

“No. Only a little. I’m okay.”

_“You're sure?”_

“Yeah.”

_“Pepper’s being nice to you?”_

Peter nodded, enthusiastically.

“Yeah. We’re watching Spongebob.”

“We’ve been watching it since we returned home,” she added, forcing herself to keep her tone light so Peter would know that it wasn't as annoying as she wanted Tony to think it was. “I didn’t realize there were so many channels that had it on…”

_“Think that’s interesting,”_ Tony said with a slight smirk on his handsome face. _“Try eight hours of Lego Batman…”_

“Go find some bad guys to pester,” Pepper told him. Preferably before he gave Peter any ideas. “I’m going to feed your son a nutritious dinner and then we’re going to play games, or something.”

Peter definitely looked interested, so Tony smiled.

_“I’ll check in with you guys, tomorrow, then. Unless you need me, before.”_

“Bye,” Peter said, waving his bandaged hand at the image on the screen. “I miss you.”

_“I miss you too, buddy. Thank you, Pep.”_

The screen went black before she could reply, and Pepper set her phone aside.

“What do you want for dinner?”

“Chocolate chips.”

She shook her head.

“That isn’t going to happen. Try again.”

“Grilled cheese?”

“That’s better. With soup?”

He smiled, and nodded.

“Yeah. Please.”

“Want to help me?”

Peter nodded, again, looking pleased at the invitation – which made her glad that she’d asked.

“Can I?”

“Of course, you can.”

She got up and waited for him to do the same, and then led the little boy to the kitchen.


	89. 89

They had a quiet evening.

Pepper didn’t have a lot of board games at her place. She rarely entertained at her apartment, and never entertained _children_. She had a deck of cards, and if she searched the very back of the closet, she thought that maybe there might be a Monopoly board, somewhere. Luckily, Tony had planned for that, and in Peter’s bag, he’d had the boy pack a couple of the ones that he enjoyed most. Battleship, Sorry, and Candyland were all brought out and put on the coffee table after they were done eating and the boy looked at her hopefully.

“Want to play?”

She’d smiled and allowed him to pick what they played, since she didn’t have a preference and honestly hadn’t played any of them in at least twenty years.

Peter was a brilliant little boy, but Pepper found it endearing that he still liked to play games that were geared specifically to youngsters. Candyland wasn't a difficult game, but the boy had thoroughly enjoyed it, and Pepper found that she had, as well. They played several times, and they’d both been victorious before they finally called a halt to things when it started getting late.

“You should get ready for bed,” Pepper told her young guest, as they picked up the pieces and put them back into the box.

“I’m not tired.”

He looked tired, though, she decided. And why not? It had been a long day, really. She was tired, too.

“Go put your pajamas on, and brush your teeth,” she told him, taking a page out of the small mental handbook that she’d developed watching Tony deal with his son. “And I’ll come read to you.”

His brown eyes lit up.

“You will?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

He vanished into the guest room and she went around the apartment, making sure everything was put away and cleaned, and then she went to get ready for bed, as well. By the time she returned, wearing old, worn sweats and a baggy t-shirt, Peter was in bed, bear tucked beside him and the book on the stand beside the bed.

For a moment, she thought he was asleep, but he opened his eyes when she walked into the room, and moved to the side in invitation.

An invitation that she took him up on. Pepper was once more amazed to find herself in the position that she was in. Especially once she’d settled herself in his bed, propped up with a pillow behind her and book in hand. Peter wasn't a shy child when he was with someone that he knew, and he’d snuggled right up beside her, willingly. Cheek resting against her and a hand on her stomach, he waited, patiently.

“Ready?” she asked, looking down at him and brushing his bangs with her free hand.

God, he was adorable, wasn't he?

Peter smiled, reacting to the motion, and feeling a warmth go through him at the contact. Cuddling against Tony’s side was amazing, and it was comforting, but it was different with Pepper. He didn’t understand the mother/son dynamic and his natural reaction to the maternal instinct that he brought out in her, but it was nice. He hadn’t had that kind of contact in a very long time, after all.

Definitely not with May.

“Yes.”

Tony had marked the spot that he’d left off in the book, and Pepper read to Peter, one arm around him, and the other holding the book open. The book that Tony had picked for Peter was illustrated on every page – a classic novel but geared to children – and Peter studied the pictures while she read.

Her soft voice, soothing presence, and the gentle caresses that brushed his cheek and forehead as she read, all worked against him staying awake to hear much of the story, however, and his eyes were soon closing. She read another page, even after she’d realized that he’d fallen asleep against her, and then set the book aside and simply held the sleeping boy for a little while, not wanting to wake him.

Maybe Tony hadn’t been as crazy as she’d thought, she decided, looking down at Peter.

><><><><><

“Are you getting anything actually done, there?”

Tony nodded.

_“Of course I am. But the bad guys can wait a minute while I check in with my favorite eight-year-old and the woman who is not only taking care of him, but also watching over my company while I’m gone.”_

“I watch over your company every day,” she reminded him. “Even those days when you’re not out being Ironman.”

_“True.”_ He smiled. _“Everything going alright?”_

“We’re doing fine.”

“Pepper made me _pancakes_!” Peter said, unable to be still any longer than he already had been. He knew it was wrong to interrupt a conversation, but it was pretty exciting. “With chocolate chips.”

_“You made him chocolate chip pancakes?”_

She shrugged.

“It was what he asked for. I had _blueberry_.”

_“How did they taste, Peter?”_

“Great.”

_“Got all your stuff together for school?”_

“Yes.”

_“What are you going to do with your bear?”_

“Pepper’s going to keep him company for me, today.”

Peter hadn’t wanted to leave it in her guest room, since JARVIS wasn't there to keep track of things, but Pepper had pointed out that with all his homework, there might not be a lot of room for it with his things and offered to keep track of the bear for him. Besides, she’d added, she might miss Tony – a _little_ – and the bear would be a good stand in for the billionaire.

Peter had immediately acquiesced, and had handed the bear to Pepper, who had been properly careful when putting it into her purse.

_“Do you guys need anything?”_

“Why do you keep asking us that when you know if we needed something that for some reason I couldn’t provide, we would either call you, or call Happy and let him know so he could get it for us?”

The little boy giggled at the question, the smile on Pepper’s expression (and the amusement in her tone) and the way Tony’s image on the phone rolled its eyes but was obviously also amused.

_“It’s habit, I guess – don’t encourage her, big man. She’s going to think that she’s funny.”_

“She _is_.”

_“Do you need anything, Peter?”_

“No.”

_“Pep?”_

“No.”

_“Then have a good day and I will be checking in when I am done shooting at bad guys.”_

“Are you shooting at bad guys?” Peter asked, excited, now.

_“No. Go to school.”_

Peter groaned, making Pepper smile.

“We’ll talk to you, later,” she told her boss.

_“Yeah.”_ He winked at his son. _“I love you.”_

“Love you, too.”

><><><><>

It was two more days before Pepper got the phone call that she knew Peter was waiting for. Tony and the others had been away a lot longer than he’d wanted, but the situation had been far more serious than they’d hoped it would turn out to be, and Ironman had definitely needed to be on hand to provide cover for those avengers who were sorting out the dangerous situation.

She was in her office, preparing for a meeting, when her phone rang and Tony’s face popped up on the display, almost immediately. Since she’d already spoken with him that morning – he checked in with Peter (and her) every morning to make sure nothing was going on that he needed to know about – she frowned.

“What’s up?”

_“We’re done,”_ he said, understanding her concern _. “I’m getting on the jet, now.”_

“That’s great news. Have you told Peter?”

_“No. He’s at school, right?”_

“Yes.”

_“I don’t want to distract him – and I really think I’ll just surprise him when he’s out for the day.”_

She smiled at that.

“He’ll love it.”

_“Yes. So don’t tell him, if you talk to him before I get there.”_

“Any idea when that will be?”

_“We’re going to be using the afterburners,”_ came Natasha Romanoff’s response to the question. _“If we do it right, we’ll get him there about the same time Peter gets out of his last class.”_

“Great.” She raised an eyebrow. “You look tired,” she observed. “You’ll want to sleep on the way home. He’ll be much too excited to have you back to settle down to let you get any downtime, right away.”

_“That is a very good point,”_ he agreed _. “Thanks. I’ll see you as soon as possible.”_

“Safe flight.”

The call ended and Pepper smiled, opening the secured drawer to her desk and pulling Peter’s bear. She smiled at it, feeling just a little reluctant to give up its company every day. She was glad that Tony was going to be home, though. Peter was an amazing little guy, and they’d had plenty of good times, but he was definitely missing the billionaire, and she couldn’t wait to see his reaction to Tony’s return.


	90. 90

“He’s on his way up with Phil…”

Tony nodded, unable to suppress the cheerful smile that creased his handsome face. He was really looking forward to surprising Peter – but even more than that, he missed him and was really looking forward to spending time with the little guy, in person.

And sleeping in his own bed.

“He’s coming _here_ , right?”

They were in Pepper’s office. Stark had been there long enough to greet her with a small cactus plant and a dozen roses to thank her for being willing to step up and take care of his son. She’d made a lot of concessions to do it – time, and a definite change in her routine – and he wanted to make sure she understood how much it had meant to him to know that the boy was safe and being nurtured even when he couldn’t be the one doing it.

“It would look suspicious if he was taken to your office,” she pointed out, smiling.

_She_ was looking forward to the surprise, as well.

“Yeah.” Tony debating hiding and jumping out from behind the desk, or maybe the door, to surprise Peter, but decided that he’d have more fun if he was just casually sitting at Pepper’s desk – maybe even eating a cookie – when the boy walked into the room. “How do I look?”

“Excited.”

“Pfft. I’m not.”

He _was_ , though, and she knew it.

“Sit down,” she suggested. “Have a cookie.”

He reached for one of the Oreos that she’d plated for Peter’s after school snack, and she’d brought a container of chocolate milk from her mini bar, but she and Tony didn’t know if the boy would be able to sit still long enough to actually eat anything, or not.

They were both sitting at her desk, with Tony facing away from the door and Pepper facing it, when it opened with a polite knock. Peter walked in, holding his backpack and he smiled up at Coulson to thank him for walking with him before he looked over at Pepper.

“Hi, Pepper. How-“ That was as far as he got, since Tony turned in his chair, just then, and Peter’s jaw dropped. “ _Tony_!”

Not _dad_ , but Stark wasn't disappointed. _Tony_ was what was most familiar to the boy, and dad as a default would come, eventually.

“Hey, buddy. I’m home.”

Peter’s backpack hit the floor and the boy raced across the room, even as Tony stood up to greet him, properly. Pepper watched from her desk as the boy launched himself into Tony’s arms, and Tony caught him, sweeping him up into his embrace.

“I missed you,” Peter murmured, hugging Tony, fiercely.

“I missed you, too,” Tony assured him. “ _So much_.”

They were silent for a long moment, simply holding onto each other and reassuring themselves that the other was safe and still loved him, but Peter finally pulled back just enough to smile up at the man.

“Did you bring me a present?”

Stark allowed his eyes to widen in surprise.

“A _present_?” he asked, dramatically. “Was I _supposed_ to?”

Peter nodded, excitedly.

“It’s in all the stories… dad comes home from a work trip with a present for the kid.”

“Huh.” Tony smiled, pressed a kiss against Peter’s cheek and then set him on his feet. “There might be a present for you, at that. Pepper? Do you see any souvenir bags around here?”

She smiled, too, pleased at how happy they both looked.

“Something like _this_ one?” she asked, reaching down to the large bag that was sitting behind her desk, out of sight. “It’s pretty heavy.”

The boy gasped with happiness and hurried over to take it from her, only barely able to remember his manners and thank her as he did. Then he carried it over to the sofa in her office and opened it while Tony and Pepper followed and watched.

“Wow!”

There was more than one present. Tony and the others hadn’t been fighting bad guys 24/7, after all, and the billionaire wasn't the only one who had worked his way through the local marketplaces, looking for items that the little boy might like.

“Natasha and the others have bags for you, too,” Tony told him, smiling as the boy pulled out a t-shirt with the cityscape of the South American town that had been closest to their operation area. “We’re going to go to the compound, this weekend so they can give them to you.” He smirked, looking at Pepper. “I had _no_ intention of waiting that long, of course.”

“Of course.”

“This is awesome,” Peter said, happily. There was a box of Legos, some new Hot Wheels, the shirt, a couple of clever little toys that were puzzles made of wood and one other item that clearly hadn’t been purchased for Peter. “Is this for Ned?” he asked, holding up the keychain.

Tony smiled.

“It is. Can’t forget your best friend, can I?”

“Wow. That’s really neat.”

“I’ll give it to him, myself,” Tony told him. “To make it special.”

“It’s going to be.”

“I was thinking we might invite him out to the compound with us – if Eric says it’s okay. Think he’d like that?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ve cleared it with Nick.” He wanted to spend time with his son, of course, but he wanted Peter to spend time with kids his own age and Ned, especially. “He might as well get used to hanging out with superheroes, right? Especially if _you’re_ going to be one, someday.”

Peter’s eyes were wide with surprise.

“I didn’t think about that. Are we going to tell him what I can do?”

“No.” Tony wasn't ready for that, yet. “We’ll wait a few years, maybe. Give you a chance to learn what you can do, first. Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Peter hugged Tony, again, digging a metal car into the man’s side, almost painfully. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Ready for your snack?”

“Do I have to go to daycare, today?” Peter asked.

“No. Not if you don’t want to.” He smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I was talking to Pepper and was thinking that you and I might take her out to a fancy dinner to thank her for taking such good care of you while I was gone. What do you think?”

“Great.” He looked at Pepper. “ _McDonald’s_?”

Tony snorted.

“Think fancier, son.”

“Pepper likes McDonald’s.”

He knew; they’d been there twice in the time that he’d been in her care.

“She likes _Italian_ , too, though,” Stark said. “And I’m in the mood for something savory. We’ll let her finish up what she needs to get done, today – which she assures me won’t take too long – and then we’ll go to dinner before taking her home. We need to get your things from her place, anyway, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll meet you in your office in thirty minutes,” Pepper told Tony.

“We’ll be ready.” He’d already changed into a suit, rather than the clothes that he’d been traveling in, and Peter’s school uniform was good enough for the restaurant. “Grab your cookies, buddy,” Tony told him as they prepared to leave. “But leave Pepper a couple.”

The boy did as he was told, but he hugged Pepper, tightly, too, before they left.


	91. 91

By the time Pepper was ready to meet them, Tony and Peter had had a chance to spend a little time catching up. The billionaire had examined Peter’s hand, carefully, but they already knew that the boy healed quickly, and there wasn't much more than a faint pink area by then.

Tony had made much of it, though, and the report that he’d seen from SHIELD that had given Peter full credit for stopping Pepper in time to keep from having the branch fall on them – even though they didn’t have any explanation _why_ he’d stopped her. Tony was going to ask him more about it, but later. Right then, he wanted to just spend time with the boy – and _Pepper_ , since he knew that he definitely owed her for being so amazing with Peter. And being willing to take him in the first place.

That was above and beyond, after all.

“It doesn’t hurt?”

“No.”

“Wiggle your fingers.”

Peter smiled, looking at the hand that Tony was holding. He did as he was told and wiggled his fingers and moved the wrist.

“It’s okay.”

“Yeah, seems to be.” He kissed the top of Peter’s head. “Let me know if that changes, though. Yeah?”

“I will.”

There was a knock on Tony’s office door and Pepper opened it.

“Are we ready?”

“We are,” Tony said, picking up Peter’s backpack. “Get your coat back on, buddy. Happy’s waiting for us.”

Peter nodded, excitedly, and did as he was told, and then took his backpack so Tony could pick his jacket up, as well. The billionaire offered his hand to his son and then led Peter and Pepper to the elevator.

“Where are we eating?” Peter asked, as they waited. “The Palace?”

“Nope. Not tonight, buddy.” Dinner with Eric and the boys would be the next Tuesday evening, if he had the schedule right – which he usually did. “It’s just the three of us, tonight.”

“And _Happy_?”

“He’s invited,” Stark assured the boy. “But he won’t want to eat with us at the restaurant.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s Italian,” Tony replied when the elevator door dinged and then opened. “He says that no one can look imposing eating spaghetti, so he refuses to do it out in public.”

“When he’s working,” Pepper corrected, looking amused. “He’s fine with going out on his own.”

“What will _he_ do?”

“He’ll find something to keep himself occupied while we’re eating. They’re already delivering my car to Pepper’s apartment, so when we’re done, we’ll head there, get your things gathered up and then we’ll go home. Sound good?”

Peter nodded, smiling. He reached up and took Pepper’s hand with his free one, making the woman look down at him.

“You could come home with us,” he offered.

Pepper smiled.

“Did Tony tell you to say that?”

“No.”

She looked at Stark, who shook his head, giving her his best innocent look.

“Nope. Not me. But you _could_ , of course. I imagine that your place is going to be pretty lonely and quiet, now that Peter’s going to be home with me.”

“I _like_ it quiet,” she reminded him. She smiled, though, at the invitation and at Peter. “But I thoroughly enjoyed your company. Thank you for being willing to hang out with me, instead of going to the compound or something.”

“I had fun,” Peter assured her.

He didn’t release either of them as they walked out of the elevator and across the lobby and Happy smirked when they exited the building, one holding each hand and the little boy swinging happily between them with every other step.

“Hey, Peter. Dad’s home, huh?”

The boy grinned.

“Yeah. _And_ we’re going out for dinner.”

“I heard.” The driver glanced at Tony. “Italian.”

“They make other things besides spaghetti,” Stark reminded him.

“Nope. I don’t care.” He opened the back door to the limo. “Do you see this white shirt? I’m not going to get sauce on it.”

They piled into the car, and Happy closed the door behind them.

“Buckle up,” Tony reminded the boy, automatically, winking at Pepper, who smirked.

Such a dad.

><><><><><>

“So your stomach was hurting you…?” Tony asked, curiously. “And then, it just stopped?”

“It didn’t hurt like I ate too much,” Peter said. “But it felt weird, yeah.”

“But then when the branch fell it stopped?” he asked, again.

Peter shrugged, turning his attention to the spaghetti on his plate and the garlic rolls.

“I think so. But I hurt my hand, so maybe I didn’t know my stomach was still hurting.”

“Huh.”

“What are you thinking?” Pepper asked, curiously.

She was eating, as well, but had chosen spinach lasagna – which had made Peter and Tony exchange a look and pretend to be sick. Tony had lasagna, too, but his was meaty. Like it was supposed to be, he told Peter, making the boy giggle when Pepper had given her boss a look.

“I’m just wondering…” he said with a shrug. “Have you ever felt your stomach feel like that, before?”

Peter hesitated.

“Maybe?”

“Recently?”

“When I lived with Eric. Kyle was going to sneak up on me and snap me with a towel, but I felt weird, like I knew it was going to happen and I turned around in time to stop him.”

“And then it stopped?”

“Yeah.” Peter shoved the roll into his mouth. “I always know when someone is trying to sneak up on me – but my stomach doesn’t always hurt.”

“Have you always been able to do that?”

“No.”

“Since the lab visit?” Pepper guessed.

Peter nodded, chewing the last of the roll. And his eyes widened, suddenly.

“You think it’s a _superpower_?”

He looked so excited that Tony had to smile. He was pleased that they didn’t have a lot of people sitting around them to hear the question.

“Maybe. Probably not a lot of ways to test it, though. Unless we start trying to drop trees on Pepper.”

The boy giggled, and glanced over at Pepper – who rolled her eyes, amused.

“I’m going to pass,” she said.

“Me, too,” Peter agreed.

><><><><><>

The rest of the meal was mostly Peter and Pepper asking Tony about the mission and what the avengers had been doing. Tony gave them a heavily edited version of the events that had led up to the Avengers going to South America, and what they’d done once they arrived. Not because it was a huge secret; it was a little classified, he supposed, but nothing groundbreaking,

Mainly it was edited to keep Peter from knowing just how much danger the billionaire had been in a few times during the time he’d been gone. Peter listened with wide-eyed excitement as Tony told him about flying against rockets being launched against him, and destroying the automatic launchers with rockets of his own. Peter absently finished eating and declined dessert in favor of asking more questions and getting more of a tale out of the man.

“Sounds a bit risky…” Pepper said, while Peter was distracted by one of the waiters who was trying to convince him that it was unAmerican to skip dessert. _Especially_ when they had chocolate cake. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“It wasn't risky at all,” he assured her. ”Superheroes 101.”

She didn’t look convinced, but Tony distracted her by pointing out all of the different cake that the restaurant had to offer. She declined any, even as Peter was talked into a piece, but asked for a cup of coffee. As did Tony.

“What are your plans the rest of the day?”

“Go home and spend time with Peter.”

“He has a project due on Friday.”

“You do?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded.

“I have to make a volcano.”

“What? Seriously?”

Pepper smiled, and the boy nodded, excitedly.

“He _does_. And it will probably be messy to get everything exactly right. He’s done very little research on what is needed as far as chemicals for the lava, and materials for the volcano, itself. You can work with him on it.”

Tony grinned, looking just as pleased as Peter was.

“I can do that.” He looked at Peter. “It’s going to be great.”

Pepper frowned at just how enthusiastic he seemed.

“Not a _real_ one,” she reminded her boss. “Just paper mache.”

Tony smirked.

“Sure.”’

“I was hoping that you’d be home in time to work on it with him,” Pepper admitted.

“Because you’d rather we destroyed my workroom at the tower than your apartment?”

She allowed her eyes to widen in innocence – a look he used often, but that she never needed to employ.

“Whaaaaat? Of course not.”

“Mr. Anson said it could be a messy project,” Peter told Tony, helpfully. “But he wants it to really erupt. So it can’t be a digital simulation.”

“This is for _art_ class?” Tony asked, recognizing the teacher’s name.

“Yeah.”

“I thought it’d be for science.”

“I’m not taking physical science.”

“No. I know…” The billionaire shrugged. “Either way. We’ll make sure it’s impressive.”

“I need a good grade,” Peter agreed. “It’ll make up for my drawings.”

“Guaranteed A,” Tony said. “We’ll work on it, tomorrow, after school.”


	92. 92

They stopped at Pepper’s to get Peter’s things, but they didn’t stay long. It was getting late, by then, and Tony didn’t want Peter’s routine any more messed up than it already was by his return. The boy hugged Pepper, tightly, for a long moment.

“I’ll see you, tomorrow,” she reminded him, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you for staying with me while Tony was gone.”

He smiled.

“Thank you for having me.”

“Go make sure you have everything,” Tony told the boy when he’d released Pepper. “We’re not going to sneak in here in the middle of the night to get your book, or your _bear_.”

Peter nodded and vanished into the bedroom.

“I was kind of hoping he’d leave something, accidentally,” Pepper admitted with a slight smile, her eyes amused.

“I owe you.”

“Big time,” she agreed.

“You had fun though, didn’t you?”

“He’s a neat little guy,” Pepper confirmed. “And very good company.”

“That, he is.” He hugged her, then, because he didn’t know a better way to thank her for being there when he needed her.

To his surprise, she put her arms around him, as well, and held him for a moment, before stepping back, her smile amused.

“Go home.”

“We could stay.”

Now his expression was smoldering, but in a playful way and not trying to seduce her.

“I’ve _had_ a Stark in my bed,” she reminded him. “One is my limit in any given time period.”

Peter came out of the room, then, backpack slung over his shoulder, and suitcase handle in one hand.

“Got everything?” Pepper asked.

He nodded.

“Here.”

The boy held out his hand, and she took the little Lego Batman from him. The new one that he’d bought at Batman Land. A treasure for him, but now, apparently, a gift for her, instead.

“What’s this for?” she asked.

“He can keep you company,” Peter pointed out. “In case you miss me.”

She tightened her hand around the tiny figurine.

“Thank you.”

That made Peter smile – and Tony couldn’t help but smile, as well.

“You’re welcome.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Tony told her, ushering his son to the door. “Thanks, again.”

“You’re welcome.”

Pepper shut them door behind them, and then locked it, before turning her hand up to get a look at the little Lego figure she was holding. It smiled up at her, and she shook her head at just how warm and mushy she felt inside at the simple gesture.

Jesus, she was getting soft, or something.

Still smiling, though, she headed for her room, and a long, hot bath.

The Lego Batman was set carefully on the stand next to her bed for safe keeping.

><><><><><

“I got you a present…”

Tony’s eyes widened,

“You _did_?”

Peter nodded, smiling, excitedly.

“But you have to wait until we get home to see it.”

“Is it a new car?” Tony asked, glancing away from traffic just long enough to smile at the boy. He looked so pleased with himself. “A _Ferrari_?”

“You have a Ferrari.”

“I could have another.”

“It’s not.”

“Is it… a new razor?”

“No.”

“A book?”

Peter giggled, happily.

“No.”

“A new toaster?”

“We have the Batman toaster…”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Oh, right. Silly me. A deck of cards?”

He was trying to make sure he didn’t actually guess whatever it might be.

“No.”

And it was apparently working.

“New underwear?”

Peter shook his head.

“I’ll show you when we get home.”

“You won’t give me a hint?”

“It’s white.”

“A snowball?”

“It would have melted,” the boy pointed out, reasonably.

“True.” Tony smiled, and reached over with his free hand and ruffled Peter’s hair. “I’m so glad to be home. I really missed you.”

“You did?”

“Of course, I did.”

Peter hugged himself, pleased.

><><><><>

They had to stop at the store. JARVIS reminded Tony that aside from the cleaning person, no one had been there for several days. The woman had cleared all the fresh items from the fridge that had been close to going bad, and that included milk – chocolate and otherwise. Not to mention, they were going to need bread and since they were stopping Peter asked if they could get some chocolate pudding, too.

Tony wasn't going to tell him no.

Loaded down with a few bags, as well as Peter’s things, they were both cheerful when they walked through the front door.

_“Welcome home, Peter,”_ JARVIS said.

“Thanks, JARVIS,” the boy replied.

He’d been in communication with the AI, of course. He was wearing (and was _still_ wearing) Tony’s watch, and JARVIS was integrated into it, but it wasn't the same as being able to simply speak and have an instant reply at any time of the day.

“Go get ready for bed, buddy,” Tony told the boy.

“I don’t have to go to _sleep_ , though, right?”

“Nope. Not yet. You still have to show me what you got me.”

Peter grinned and nodded.

“Okay.”

He vanished into his bedroom, carrying the luggage, and the backpack, and Tony toted their groceries into the kitchen. He’d already been home long enough to unpack his own travel bag, and there were other souvenirs for Peter waiting for the boy, but they could wait until later. He’d oooo and aww over Peter’s present to him, now, and spend a little downtime relaxing before bed.

Being home was much better than being anywhere else, he’d already decided, and shook his head, once more amazed at the crazy changes that were now his reality.

><<><><><>

Pepper smiled when Tony wandered into her office the next morning.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“Did you have a good evening?”

“It was nice,” he assured her. “Spent time with Peter, went to the grocery store, had to force myself to not spontaneously combust when I tried on the Batman shirt that he bought me…”

Her smile widened.

“I have one, too. It’s _pink_.”

“He told me. He also showed me the ones he purchased for everyone else, too. And then swore me to secrecy so he could surprise them, this weekend.”

“Are you _wearing_ it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course I am,” the billionaire said, rolling his eyes. “He asked me to, and I said no, and then his eyes got _this big_ …” he held his hands up to the size of dinner plates. “And I caved before his lower lip even started to quiver.”

Pepper squealed with delight that she couldn’t suppress.

“Let me see.”

“No.”

“Come on… I won’t tell.”

“I’m not going to strip down for your amusements,” he told her, firmly. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, because I _could_ – but not just to show you a t-shirt. A t-shirt that does _nothing_ for my ego, by the way. You want me naked, it’ll be after a lovely meal and a few cocktails.”

“Who said naked?” she asked, still amused. That little boy had him so wrapped around his finger. “Come on… let me see your Batman shirt.”

“I’ll show you mine of you show me yours.”

“I wore mine _Sunday_. Come on…”

He rolled his eyes and then unbuttoned and took off his suit jacket. He was wearing a dress shirt, but it was pale blue and Pepper could see the faint Batman logo in black under it.

“No pictures…” he reminded her, unbuttoning the shirt, as well.

“Of course.” Her eyes were amused, though, as he opened the shirt enough to show her his Batman Land souvenir. “Tony Stark, wearing a Batman t-shirt… so _sexy_.”

The billionaire scowled at her as he buttoned his shirt back up and then reached for the jacket, once more.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I’m _hilarious_. You can all wear them on your next mission.”

“Don’t think that they won’t,” he pointed out, sitting down across from her. “What do I have on my schedule, today?”

“Nothing. I wasn't sure when you’d be home.”

“Good. Then I’m going to go research volcanoes.”

“ _Fake_ volcanoes,” she reminded him.

“Right. But it had to look realistic.”

“Right…” she smirked. “Make sure I get to see it when you boys are finished.”

“You’ll be the first to know.”


	93. 93

It was Maria who delivered Peter to Tony’s office. The boy’s face was red from the chill outside one minute and then the warmth inside the building, but his eyes were shining, happily, as he set his backpack on his desk and moved over to Tony’s.

Stark had been sitting at the desk, looking over last minute specifications for his newest suit that was still in design stage, but he’d set it aside when JARVIS told him Peter was in the building, and he’d moved to stand in front of his desk to greet the boy.

“There’s my guy.”

Peter threw himself into Tony’s arms, and felt his stomach do a happy flutter that had nothing to do with the way Tony picked him up, so easily.

“Hi.”

He wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck, and felt himself being cuddled. It was amazing.

“Did you have a good day at school?”

“Yes.” Peter rested his head on Tony’s shoulder, playing with the collar on the expensive suit. “Did you have a good day at work?”

“I didn’t do much work,” Tony admitted, carrying Peter to the closest chair by his desk and dumping him into the plush leather.

“What did you do?” Peter asked, excited. “ _Avenger_ things?”

“Nah. Although I _did_ talk to Nick about you and Ned coming with me to the compound this weekend.”

Peter’s eyes grew even more excited. Tony hadn’t thought it possible.

“Really? Did he say it’s okay?”

“He _did_. You’ll have to share your room with Ned.”

“That’s okay.”

“Not your bed, though. Nick’s going to bring in a spare. Maybe a rollaway one, for Ned to sleep on.”

“Can I sleep on a rollaway one, too?” Peter asked, hopefully.

Tony smiled, amused.

“I’ll see what Nick says. We might only have one.”

“Okay.”

Tony pushed the plate of cookies toward the boy and forced himself not to look worried when Peter picked one up and shoved the thing into his mouth. It was a habit the boy had that Tony didn’t like – he was always worried Peter would choke, and he had a very active imagination, so it never ended well. Pepper had suggested he rectify the problem – at least at the tower – by making sure the cookies that he supplied for Peter’s after school snack were smaller than the norm.

Then it wouldn’t matter that the boy seemed to love stuffing them in his face.

“I did some research for your volcano project.”

“You did?” Peter asked, drinking some chocolate milk to clear his mouth. “What do we need to do?”

“One of the chemical engineers doing R&D up on the 17th floor gave me a list of things we can try to simulate an eruption. She said she’d send them to my workroom, and JARVIS told me that they’ve been delivered. Shall we give it a try? Or do you want to do daycare, today, and work on the volcano, later?”

Stark wasn't shocked that Peter immediately got up, only stopping long enough to grab another cookie.

“The volcano.”

“Excellent choice.” He reached for a cookie, too, and then stood up. “Come on. Let’s go see what we can find out.”

><><><><><>

“Oh, good _Lord_ …”

Peter and Tony both turned at the sound, and Pepper couldn’t help the amused snort that bubbled up out of her at the sight of the two.

“It isn’t as bad as it looks,” Tony told her, quickly.

Considering the two of them were literally coated in an orangish-red goo that was splattered not only on them but also on the walls of the workroom and every surface in their vicinity, she wasn't convinced. Peter looked at the mess, pulling off the safety goggles that Tony had handed him before they’d begun experimenting with the materials that were waiting for them.

“That didn’t work…”

“It _worked_ ,” Tony corrected, also taking safety goggles off. He hadn’t planned on using any, of course, but when Peter had pointed out that if _Tony_ didn’t think it was needed, why should he wear his, he’d put them on as an example. And it was probably a good thing that he had, really. “It just worked too well.”

The paper mache volcano that they’d created (and they’d made four of them, so they could have more than one to experiment with) was destroyed, completely, and little bits and pieces of it were splattered everywhere, along with the concoction of flour, chemicals and vinegar that had been made to represent the lava.

“Considering it looks like Pompeii in here…” Pepper said, noting that there was even a coating of the orange lava goo splattered on three of the Ironman prototype suits that were in the room. “I’d say it’s a fair representation of a volcano.”

“Well, we wanted a big reaction,” Stark told her, wiping his hand along his jaw, and looking at the goop that was now on his fingers. “But we might have used a tad too much baking soda.”

Peter’s hand went to his hair, and he was pulling goop from his curls, which were plastered against his head.

“I _told_ you.”

“Hush.”

Pepper smiled.

“Tell me you have a recording of the eruption.”

_“I recorded it,”_ JARVIS assured her _. “All displays are smeared, at the moment, but if you want to move to a different room, I’ll be happy to show it to you.”_

Tony scowled.

“That’s proprietary information, you traitor…”

Peter giggled, spitting out orange lava when it fell off his lip into his mouth.

“I want to see it, too.”

“ _You’re_ going to go take a shower,” Tony told his son. He was smiling, too, now. “You have lava in your hair.”

“So do you.”

“Among other places,” the billionaire agreed. “Pep? Will you walk my messy little man to my office – preferably without allowing him to touch anything along the way – and install him into the shower in my private bathroom? I’ll go get him something clean to change into.”

Her eyes sparkling with mirth she wasn't even bothering to hide, she nodded.

“Take your shoes off, Peter,” she suggested.

That much less to trail along the hallway floors.

He did as he was told and took his shoes off, leaving them on the worktable beside the remains of the volcano.

“We’re still going to make a volcano, though, right?” he asked, uncertainly.

“Of course, we are,” Tony assured him. “But not this evening. And we know just how much of everything we should use, now, to make it look impressive, but not quite so Krakatoa-like. We can build it, tomorrow, and have it ready to go Friday for your class.”

“And you’ll provide eye protection for everyone,” Pepper added. “Just in case?”

“This won’t happen, again,” Tony told her, rolling his eyes at her assumption that it would. “We’ve got it under control. Right, son?”

Peter didn’t look quite as certain as Tony sounded, but he nodded.

“Yes.”

“Eye protection, Tony,” she repeated. “And those frocks that they use for art class. I don’t want a handful of claims for dry cleaning, or lava in the eyes.”

He scowled, and that made Peter giggle.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Peter’s teacher, tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” She was getting used to not having ay PR issues with him, and while an exploding volcano was hardly earth shattering (at least a paper one wasn't) she didn’t want to deal with it. Pepper smiled at Peter. “Ready?”

He nodded and took her hand, automatically, which made Stark smirk. That little hand was covered in lava goo, after all, and now Pepper’s hand was, too. She didn’t even bat an eye when she realized it, and he had to be impressed.

“I’ll meet you in my office,” he told them, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so many chapter of domestic fluff!


	94. 94

Pepper walked with Peter to Tony’s office, ignoring the looks that the two of them – especially _Peter_ – garnered as they walked down the corridor.

“Is Tony your _boyfriend_?” Peter asked when they walked into the spacious room and headed immediately for the bathroom.

Pepper raised an eyebrow, even as she lifted her arms, showing him what she wanted him to do.

“Arms up, honey,” she said, and carefully peeled his sodden, messy, shirt from his little body. “Did Tony tell you to ask me that?”

“No. I was just wondering.” He shrugged, watching as some of the ‘lava’ dripped from his hair onto his belly and chest. “Do you like him?”

She smiled.

“Of course I like him.”

Peter unbuttoned his pants, dropping them and stepping out of them and then sitting on the bathroom floor to take off his socks.

“But like a girlfriend?” he pressed, looking up at her. “Like _Mrs. Dickerson_ likes him?”

Pepper’s smile never faltered.

“Our relationship is pretty complicated,” she told the boy, honestly. “It’s hard to explain.”

“I know about _sex_ …” Peter assured her. “May’s boyfriend told me.”

Pepper brokered billion-dollar deals without skipping a beat, and had faced down lawyers, judges, and congressmen of all sorts. She floundered just a little, though, at the turn of conversation. It was definitely one that she wasn't going to have with an eight-year old. No matter what he thought he knew.

“We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend,” she said. “But we’re very good friends. Otherwise he wouldn’t trust me to look after you, right?”

“Do you _want_ to be his girlfriend?”

She took his hand, pulling him back to his feet, and handed him a towel from a cupboard. He didn’t need her help getting himself clean; he’d taken a couple of baths while staying with her so she knew he was good, as long as he could reach the shower knobs.

“Can I tell you?” she asked. “But you couldn’t tell Tony?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes. I promise.”

“Sometimes when I see him with you, I think that he’d make a pretty good boyfriend.”

“Really?”

“Sometimes.”

“I could ask him for you.”

Pepper smiled, and reached out, her palms going to his cheeks, smearing the lava goop but holding his head still so he had to look at her.

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” she told him, her expression amused, but her words firm. “This is between Tony and me, and we’ll discuss it, when the time is right. Understand?”

“Not really,” he admitted. His brown eyes were happy, though. He really did think that maybe he loved her. Especially when she was acting like a mom. “But I won’t tell.”

“Thank you.” Pepper leaned down and kissed his forehead, sputtering around the lava she tasted there. “Go take a shower. Make sure you get your hair cleaned. When Tony comes in, he’ll need to take one, too.”

“Okay.”

She let him go and left the room, closing the door behind her. Peter smiled and went to the shower.

><><><><><

Stark (the _elder_ Stark) was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and carrying his shoes in his hand when he walked into his office only a short time after Pepper had left the bathroom. She was sitting behind his desk, examining her fingernails, but she looked up at his entrance and smiled, amused. He was wearing clean clothes, yes, but his hair was caked with drying lava goop and the stuff was smeared on his face and stuck in his facial hair.

“You keep clean clothes in your workroom?” she asked.

“Of course.” He walked over and set his shoes on his desk. “It isn’t the first time I’ve blown something up in there.”

“First volcano, though, I imagine.”

“True.” He was amused, though. “Peter’s okay?”

“Yes. He’s in getting cleaned up.”

“I sent an intern to go buy him something to wear.”

“You should keep a change of clothes here for him, too.”

“Yes.” The intern had been instructed to buy more than one set of clothes because Tony had decided that, too. “I’ll put him in one of my shirts, until they get here.”

She nodded, and gave him a look.

“I want you to have a talk with him.”

“About what?”

“The birds and the bees.”

Stark frowned.

“What did he do?”

Pepper smiled.

“He didn’t do anything. But he made a comment that concerns me.”

“Oh?” Now he hesitated, wondering if he’d said something in passing that Peter had caught and maybe repeated in Pepper’s presence. “What did he say?”

“He told me that May’s boyfriend had told him all about sex.”

“Oh.”

“Since we neither one know what kind of men his aunt was dating, I want you to make sure whatever he was told by this man is tempered with good sense and less euphemisms.”

Tony nodded; he’d planned some kind of conversation, already. After hearing what Steve had been told about their neighbor with the open relationship with her husband.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled. It was touching that she liked Peter enough to be concerned. He’d never have pegged her for maternal, but he’d been seeing an entirely new side of her, recently. And he liked it.

A lot.

“Thank _you_.” He went around his desk and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out a long-sleeved t-shirt that was stashed there with yet another pair of jeans. You never knew, after all, when you’d spill something on yourself. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Get Peter dressed and send him out here. I’ll keep him company until you’re done.”

“Will do.”

><><><><>

Peter joined Pepper only fifteen minutes or so later. He came out of the bathroom with his hair still a little damp – although now it was clean and clearly Tony had combed it – and was wearing the long-sleeved shirt, with the sleeves rolled up until they were more his length. The thing was also so big on him that it draped down to his knees, but there wasn't any way that his clothes from earlier – aside from his underwear – were going to be usable.

She smiled when he walked over to her and set aside the deck of cards she’d been shuffling as she waited.

“You look better.”

He grinned, too, holding his arms up to show off the new wardrobe.

“This is Tony’s shirt.”

“I can tell,” she assured him. “Is he taking a shower?”

Peter nodded, walking over and climbing into the chair across from the desk.

“He complained that I used all the hot water.”

The little boy didn’t seem too concerned. Pepper wasn't, either, since she knew there was an unlimited supply.

“Then he won’t linger under the spray too long,” she pointed out. “He told me that he sent someone to get you some clean clothes to wear.”

“Yeah.” He got on his knees, to be able to see the desktop better. “Want to play?”

“Of course.” She handed him the cards. “Deal them up.”

><><><><

By the time Tony came out of the bathroom, once more dressed in the jeans and t-shirt, but now without any volcanic goop on his face, or hair, Peter and Pepper were engaged in a fierce battle of Go-Fish. He walked over, stopping to stand behind Peter, and looking at the cards he was holding.

“Who’s winning?”

“She is.”

He didn’t seem too concerned, but Tony knew Peter wasn't even close to as competitive as he was. Surprising, really, since he’d been living with so many kids at the foster home. Tony would have thought it would have been breeding grounds for arguments and competitions for attention from Eric and his wife It was another indication of just how amazing a job Peter’s former foster dad had done – and still was probably doing with the remaining boys.

“Your clothes haven’t arrived?”

“We’re not right next to Walmart,” Pepper pointed out. “It’s probably going to be a while.”

She winked at Peter, who grinned.

“Do you want to play?” the boy asked.

“I’ll watch.”

Tony took the seat next to Peter’s, and leaned over. Ostensibly, he was looking at the cards, but Peter smiled when the billionaire rested his chin on Peter’s shoulder. Pepper smiled, too.

“Too bad that marker beard is gone,” she said. “You two could be twins.”

Peter nodded, but looked down at his cards.

“Do you have any fives?”

“I do not. Go fish.”

The boy shook his head, and drew a card.

“We’ll go home when you have something to wear,” Tony told him, pressing down on Peter’s shoulder with his chin, making him giggle.

“Okay.”

“Pepper? Want to come to dinner?”

“I can’t,” she replied. “But thank you for the offer.”

“Gotta hot date?” Tony asked, smiling.

“With my Spin class.”

“Ugh.” Tony hated going to the gym. “We’re going to have greasy cheeseburgers.”

“Make sure to have something healthy with it,” she said, before asking Peter for any sevens. “I don’t want him sick.”

“It’ll have lettuce on it,” Peter assured her.

She didn’t look impressed by that tidbit of information, and raised an eyebrow at Tony, who made a face.

“We’ll have a salad, or something.”

“Thank you.”


	95. 95

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there is some mention of sex in the next chapter - just a heads-up

They weren’t too much later getting home than they usually were.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t have to wait around and clean up the workroom…” Peter said as he got out of the SUV in front of the house, grabbing his backpack as he did. “We would still be there.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. He’d left a huge cash tip on the table and asked JARVIS to advise the poor cleaning people that were going to walk into that mess that they were to help themselves to the money and thank them for not just closing the door and walking away. “We’ll owe the cleaning company big-time.”

Peter reached up to open the door.

“It was fun, though,” he said with an excited smile. “It was like I was really a scientist, or something.”

“I had fun, too.” Tony tousled his hair once the hood to his coat was brought down. “Go get ready for bed.”

“We haven’t had dinner, yet.”

“You can eat in your jammies.”

“And we’ll do something after dinner?”

“Do you have other homework, besides the volcano?”

“No.”

“Then we can do whatever you want – as long as it’s _inside_.”

He didn’t want to have to say no to a walk around the neighborhood in the dark, after all.

“Okay.”

Peter hung his coat on the coat rack and headed for his room, and Tony hung his jacket above the boy’s and headed for the kitchen.

><><><><

“What are you looking at?” Peter asked when he joined his father in the kitchen not too much later.

“Just some research,” Stark told him, turning off the display. “Might as well, since I’m waiting for the burgers.”

Peter climbed up onto his special stool so he could see the burgers that were grilling.

“It smells good.”

“Yeah.” Before Peter had entered his life, permanently, Tony’s excursions into the kitchen were fairly limited. Since he’d made the vow to feed them both healthier, he was learning all kinds of recipes that he’d never tried, but that Peter loved. Hamburger helper and macaroni and cheese were two favorites that were always requested. “Get the salad mix from the fridge, will you?”

It wasn't something that they ate a lot of; Peter didn’t care for it, and Tony would rather down a vitamin and call it a day, but he’d promised Pepper, and didn’t want it to come back to her that they’d skipped it. Peter hopped off his chair and brought out the bag of lettuce, shredded carrots, and whatever else was in it, and also pulled out the ranch dressing.

“I wouldn’t say anything if we skipped salad,” the boy assured Tony, climbing back up onto the stool.

“I promised.”

Might as well be a good example, right?

“Okay.”

A promise was a promise, Peter supposed.

><><><><

When the burgers were done, and while they were eating, they discussed the volcano and what had gone wrong – as well as what had gone _right_. They cleaned up the kitchen, together, simply enjoying the company of the other, and decided that they’d go play pool to kill the time before Peter’s bedtime.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Tony told the boy as Peter gathered all the balls and put them in the rack.

He was too little to actually be able to see very well over the table – it came to his chin – but he had a stepstool that he used to help him. The boy looked over.

“About what?” he asked, curiously.

“Well, you mentioned something to Steve, once, about some of the guys that May used to hang out with. JARVIS told me, today, that you mentioned in my office that one of May’s boyfriends told you all about sex. I wanted to talk to you about that.”

It wasn't exactly why the conversation was coming up, but Tony didn’t want Peter to think that if he said something to Pepper, it was going to get back to Tony. Blaming it on his AI tattling was a lot easier.

“What about it?” Peter asked him.

“Well… I was wondering what he told you. You know, to make sure you’re not confused.”

This really wasn't a conversation that Tony had anticipated a need to have with Peter until he was much older – although when he’d been cooking dinner, he’d been doing a little searching, and it wasn't that unusual for parents to start discussing a very edited version of the birds and the bees with children as young as seven or eight.

Apparently, they were right on track.

Peter shrugged.

“He said that girls get on the bed and men…” the boy hesitated. “He said they _fuck_ them,” he whispered the curse word, but couldn’t think of an alternative. “And that if they scream, then you’re doing it right.”

Tony looked at him, blankly, for a moment.

“What else?” he asked. “Did he mention the process?”

“You mean how to do it?”

“Right. Do you know?”

“No. I didn’t want to ask. It sounded scary.”

Because the unnamed boyfriend had done a shitty job of explaining it, Tony decided, forcing himself to keep his expression from looking disapproving.

“Well, it’s a lot of things,” he finally said, taking up his pool cue. “But _scary_ shouldn’t be one of them.”

“Have you done it?” Peter asked, curiously.

“I have.”

“Did she scream?”

Tony snorted, unable to help himself.

“They don’t have to scream, buddy. And it shouldn’t be scary. It’s a way for a man and a woman to show that they love each other.”

“Oh.”

“But only _adults_ ,” Tony added, quickly. “Not little guys like you. That’s a completely different kind of love. Equally amazing, but way different.”

Peter nodded.

“I understand. Kind of.” He hesitated. “I think I love Pepper – a _little_. Is that normal?”

The older man smiled.

“It is. I’m glad you love her.”

“Do you love her?”

“Yeah. But you can’t tell her, okay?”

“Why not?”

“Because she works for me, and it might get weird. I don’t want things to get weird between me and her.”

“Oh.” He watched as Tony shot the white ball into the others, sending them everywhere around the table. “She’s nice, though, isn’t she?”

“That she is.” Stark wasn't sure exactly how the conversation had turned to Pepper, but he steered it back to the topic at hand. “Do you have any questions about any of this?”

“About you and Pepper?”

“About _sex_ ,” he corrected. “And _doing it_ ,” he added, using Peter’s verbiage. “I want you to understand it, but I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed. It isn’t really something you’re going to need to worry about for at least a few more years.”

“When I hit puberty?”

“Right.” The kid went to high school; he was going to have at least noticed the differences between the older boys and himself. “It shouldn’t be a while, but I want you prepared so it doesn’t scare you.”

“I don’t know what to ask…” Peter admitted.

“Well, if you think of anything, write it down, or just remember it, and we’ll talk about it. Got it?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

That made Tony smile.

“You’re welcome.” He allowed some of his focus to go to the game, and watched as Peter tried to knock a solid in but missed and made a stripe drop into the pocket. It didn’t matter, since they weren’t calling their shots. “Now, tell me about the rest of the things you did in class while I was away…”

He’d be able to tell Pepper that he had the talk, and Peter seemed to be fine. Not freaked out like Tony knew he probably would have been at that age. Tony wanted to keep his little guy innocent for as long as he could, though. Time enough, later, to learn about the craziness of dating and relationships beyond the ones that he was already developing with those around him.

Stark understood, then, too, that there was very little chance that he would be having any women over, even once Peter became more settled in. That wasn't something that he wanted the little boy to have to deal with, really. He especially wouldn’t be inviting the neighbor.


	96. 96

“You’re really taking both boys out to the compound?”

Tony nodded, settling into the chair across from Pepper’s desk and looking smug.

“I am.”

“You don’t think two little boys running amok at the Avenger’s top secret compound isn’t a recipe for disaster?”

“Nope. It’s going to be great.”

“ _Two little boys_ ,” Pepper repeated, a faint smile on her expression.

“They’re the avengers,” Stark reminded her. “They can keep track of two little kids. I’ll be there, too, of course.”

Nick had insisted on that, actually, but Tony hadn’t intended on leaving his little guy and Ned at the compound and go off on a weekend vacation, or something. He was looking forward to watching Peter introduce Ned to the compound. The boy’s friend had already met many of the Avengers at the housewarming party, so he’d be over the hero worship part of things and would be able to enjoy himself.

“Because _you_ being there will keep everyone out of trouble…” Pepper said, gently sarcastic, and clearly amused.

“Exactly.”

“You blew up a volcano in your workroom…”

“It was a controlled experiment.”

“A controlled experiment gone somewhat wrong.”

“That’s what experiments _do_ , sometimes,” the billionaire said, shrugging. “The one he took to school, today, is much more stable. We spent last night making sure of it.”

“You don’t get to be there to watch him set it off in class?”

“Nope. It would be a distraction. None of the other kids’ parents will be there. Peter stands out enough as it is.”

“That’s very mature of you…”

Now he was the one who smirked.

“Right?”

She rolled her eyes, but had to smile. Tony was so much more enjoyable to be around, lately. Peter’s presence had mellowed him, or matured him, or calmed him. She didn’t know which – or maybe it was all of the above.

“When are you leaving?”

“Peter gets out of school at 3:00. Ned gets out at 2:45. Eric is going to deliver Ned here, to the tower, and we’ll go when Peter gets here.”

“No daycare?”

“With the avengers waiting for him? Not a chance.”

“Good point.”

“Want to come out for the weekend?”

She smiled at the invitation, but shook her head.

“Another time, perhaps.” Having the little boy stay with her the last weekend had pushed many little projects she had had lined up to the back burner, and she intended to work on them that weekend, instead. “It’ll be fun.” “Are you going to experiment on Peter?”

“ _With_ Peter,” Tony corrected. “He’s a little boy; we’re not experiment on him. I’m not a monster.”

She hid her smile.

“Sorry. Are you going to be experimenting _with_ Peter this weekend? Climbing walls? Lifting elephants? That kind of thing.”

“No. Ned doesn’t know what Peter can do and we want to keep it that way. At least for now.”

“I can understand that.”

She’d been in the room when Tony had discussed it with Peter, after all.

“Besides, there are plenty of other things to keep the boys interested. We don’t _need_ to do experiments.”

Plenty of time for that, later.

“Try not to burn the place down. I’m sure Director Fury wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They spent some time in her office, but the discussion moved to several important meetings and visits that were coming up the next week. Pepper preferred to remind him ahead of time about such things. He could not show up, and even still claim that he forgot, but he couldn’t ever say that she hadn’t told him.

><><><><>

_“Well?”_

Even though he was only seeing him on the phone screen (Peter had a cell phone, but it didn’t have the 3D tech that Tony utilized with his own) the billionaire could see how happy his son looked. He also couldn’t miss that there was a smear of reddish-orange on the boy’s forehead.

“It was awesome,” Peter told him. “It went just right, and the lava blew all over the place, like a real volcano.”

_“But not like it did in the workroom?”_

“No. Not like that.” Peter grinned. “But pretty big. We had a bit of a mess.”

_“Did you help clean it up?”_

“Yeah. That’s why I’m late for lunch.” The boy didn’t look too upset about the labor. “I got an A.”

Tony smiled.

_“Good job.”_

“Thanks.”

_“Maria is going to bring you back to the tower, right?”_

Peter looked up at the SHIELD agent, who was seated next to him in the lunchroom. She nodded, unable to hide her smile at how excited Peter looked. And how excited he’d been all day.

“Yes,” Peter answered.

_“Good. Ned will probably make it here before you.”_

Since they’d spoken to Eric – and Ned – the evening before, Peter already knew that. He was excited, though.

“Right.”

Peter’s little luggage bag was sitting by his desk in Tony’s office, where Stark had set it that morning. The boy had his backpack, but that only held schoolbooks and his tablet. And the bear. Peter hadn’t wanted to leave it in his room at home, and he told Tony that he didn’t mind carrying it around school that day in his pack.

_“Need anything?”_

“Not right now,” Peter assured him. “I’ll see you after school.”

_“Yes. Be good.”_

The boy nodded.

“I will.”

><><><><><

Peter was a little later than they’d anticipated.

Not that anything was wrong, Maria Hill was quick to assure Tony when she’d called to let him know they were running behind. Peter’s last class of the day had ended on time, but his teacher had asked him to stay just a moment longer to discuss an assignment that was coming up.

One that was going to be a team assignment, and the man had wanted to ask Peter which three of the kids in his class the little boy was most comfortable with. It was a concession to the boy’s age, and while Peter didn’t understand the need for it, Agent Hill had been listening in with interest, and was pleased that the three Peter chose as his potential teammates were all seniors, all exceptional students (which described most of the kids in the accelerated school) and were the ones that would be least likely to be annoying when they spent any prolonged time with the boy – or his adopted father.

Ned was sitting in one of the chairs across from Tony’s desk when Peter opened the door to the billionaire’s office. Tony was in his chair, talking to Eric, who had been sitting beside Ned and smiled when the boy walked into the room. He didn’t get a chance to greet his son, though. Not right away.

“Peter!” Ned jumped off out of the chair, hurrying over and brandishing the keychain that he’d been handed as soon as Tony had greeted him and Eric. “Look what Mr. Stark brought me back from his avenger’s mission!”

“Wow.” Peter had seen it before, of course, but he grinned at how excited his friend was. “It’s a good one for your collection, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Ned was pleased at how suitably impressed his friend was. “He said that he’d try to remember to get one every time he went anywhere.”

“Too bad they don’t sell keychains at the compound,” Peter said. He turned and hugged Eric, who had moved to stand beside Ned. “Hi, Eric.”

“Peter,” his former foster dad said, picking him up and hugging him, close for a long moment. “You look great, pal.”

“I _am_ great,” he assured him. “Did you adopt Ned, yet?”

“We signed everything,” was the reply as the big man let him down. “But we’re waiting to see the judge, now. It can take a while, unfortunately.”

“Pepper could get you one,” Peter said. “I bet she wouldn’t mind.”

“That is a fine idea,” Tony agreed.

“You shouldn’t-“

“Make things smoother for you?” Stark asked. “It’s the least I could do for you and your wife – and Ned. If you’re interested, I’ll see what we can do about speeding things up.”

Ned looked up, hopefully, and Eric smiled down at the bigger boy.

“We accept,” he told him. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Tony looked at the boys. “Are we ready?”

“Yeah.” Ned was wriggling in excitement, which made Tony and Eric both smile. “Are we going with the SHIELD agents?”

“Nope,” Stark said. “I’m driving.”

“But there will be SHIELD agents around, somewhere,” Peter told his friend, knowingly. “They are _always_ around.”

“Wow.”

“Got everything?” Eric asked Ned.

The boy nodded.

“Yeah.”

“If he doesn’t, we’ll figure it out,” Tony assured the man. “I’ll deliver him home, personally, sometime around dinner time, Sunday.”

“Sounds good.” He gave Ned a look. “You behave.”

Ned wasn't cowed. He grinned and hugged him.

“I will.”

“He will,” Tony agreed.

Eric left and Tony turned his attention to the two boys.

“Peter? How was school?”

“Great.”

“Ned?”

“It was great,” the other boy agreed.

“Good. You guys need to pee before we go? It’s a bit of a drive,” he added, looking at Ned, since Peter already knew.

They both shook their heads, grinning.

“Then let’s get our stuff and get going,” he told them. “We need to stop and talk to Pepper on the way to the garage.”


	97. 97

It was dark by the time they arrived at the compound, but it was still early.

The lights were on in the front drive of the area, and Tony was silently relieved to see that there were a few people waiting for them. Not surprised, since he’d had JARVIS send a heads-up that they were almost there, but relieved, nonetheless.

“Wow!” Ned said, from behind Tony. “Natasha and Rhodey are here.”

“Everyone but Clint and a few others are here, this weekend,” Tony told him.

“Wait till you see the ball pit they got in the gym,” Peter said, also from behind Tony. The boy had been buckled in beside Ned, so they could chat easier on the way. “And the playground that Steve built.”

“Probably won’t see either of them until tomorrow,” Stark told both boys, shutting off the engine and smiling through the glass at their welcoming party.

Peter’s door opened, immediately, and the little boy was pulled from the car as soon as he was unbuckled.

“Peter! How’s my favorite little guy?”

The boy hugged Natasha, tightly, grinning.

“Good. Ned came!”

“I see that,” she said, setting her prize down and smiling at the other boy. “Ned! It’s good to see you.”

Ned unbuckled and slid across the seat to the same door that Peter had used.

“Hi, Natasha. How are you?”

“Better, now,” she told him. “I’m glad you came.”

“Thanks for having me.”

“Hey Cheese Pizza,” Rhodey said to Peter, tousling the boy’s hair, cheerfully. “How are you?”

“Good.”

“I hear you and Tony blew up his workroom.”

“How did you hear that?” Stark asked, getting out of the car.

“I have my sources,” Rhodes told him, affecting an air of mystery.

“Pepper,” Peter guessed.

“ _Maybe_ …” Rhodes winked at Ned. “Did you guys eat?”

“Not, yet.”

“Then let’s get your stuff to Peter’s room and go find some dinner. Tony?”

“Right behind you,” he agreed.

The two boys gathered their things and flanked Rhodes, who was already asking Peter about the volcano project. As they vanished into the main entrance of the compound, Romanoff looked at Stark.

“How was the drive?”

“Noisy,” he admitted. “Ned is the complete opposite of Peter. He’s a boisterous little guy, and he had a million questions. Be prepared, because I’m sure he saved some for you and the others.”

She smiled.

“He’s _adorable_.”

She’d spent some time with him at the housewarming party, after all.

“No wonder he gets along so well with me and Peter, then.”

The superspy rolled her eyes, amused.

“Ready for dinner?”

“Have you eaten?”

“We were waiting.”

“Who’s here?”

“Everyone. We can’t wait to see the volcano video.”

The billionaire smirked.

“We’ll see…”

They walked at a more sedate pace, but were soon in the lounge. Tony saw Peter and Ned both sitting at a large table, and now Rhodey had been joined by Steve and Sam. Ned was big enough that he had no trouble being seen over the table top. Peter was still using the thick books for a booster. Mainly because none of them wanted him to feel like a baby by offering him an actual booster seat.

Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“What’s for dinner?” Tony asked, walking over and seating himself in the chair left beside Peter.

“Pork chops and mashed potatoes,” was the reply. Natasha took the spot beside Sam, across from the boys. “Tell us about the volcano, Peter.”

The smaller boy smiled and did just that, while the others listened and laughed. Tony was finally cajoled into providing not only a few photos of Peter (and himself) covered in the aftermath of the workroom eruption, but was also eventually talked into showing them the actual disaster sometime around when their dinner arrived.

The conversation turned to Ned while they ate, with the avengers all asking the other boy more about himself than they’d learned at Tony and Peter’s housewarming. The boys had been running around like madmen there, for the most part, so conversation hadn’t been easy. Now, it was. Ned cheerfully told them all about himself while they ate, and Sam shook his head, amused, when Peter proudly added that Ned was accepted into his school and was going to start there the next year.

“You’re like a magnet for mini geniuses,” Wilson told Tony. “Keep it up and we could have a whole army of them.”

Ned looked pleased at the compliment, and Stark nodded.

“Maybe enough for a bowling team, anyway…”

The boys both smiled.

“Do they bowl?”

“Eric took us, once,” Ned said. “Before Peter came.”

“How’d you do?” Natasha asked.

“They put up these things that kept the ball from rolling off the side,” Ned explained. “I think it’s cheating, but I did good.”

“Do we need a bowling alley here in the compound?” Steve asked, smiling.

“We don’t have any place to put one,” Nick said, walking up to them just in time to hear the question. “Not to mention, it’d be a distraction. Bowling alleys are noisy.”

“But they have good food,” Sam pointed out, smiling as Nick tousled Peter’s hair in greeting, and winked at Ned. “And beer.”

“Hi, Nick.”

“Hey, Peter. Ned. How was the drive?”

“It’s starting to snow,” Peter told him, happily. “Maybe we’ll get enough so we can build a snowman.”

“Let’s hope.” He looked at Tony. “You good?”

Meaning was there anything that Stark needed from him. Mainly did he want Nick to be the bad cop and lay out all of the rules for the two boys while they were at the compound. Peter knew them, of course, but Ned was a first-time visitor and the SHIELD director didn’t want anything to go wrong while he was there.

Tony understood, immediately.

“I think we’re good. On the way up, the boys and I went over the ground rules for Ned’s stay, here, this weekend.”

“No wandering off,” Peter said, smiling.

“No being in restricted places,” Ned added. “And I can’t pretend that I didn’t know how to read the signs, because everyone knows that I _can_.”

“No running in the corridors,” Peter said.

“And we can’t sneak into the bar and drink alcohol.”

“No dangerous stuff.”

“No hurting ourselves.”

“Stay out of the river.”

The adults all smiled, and Nick nodded.

“Sounds about right.” He rested a hand on Peter’s head, tilting it up at him. “Have fun, though. Okay?”

The boy grinned up at him.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Join us for dessert, Nick?” Tony offered.

“No. Thank you, but I have a few things to take care of that can’t wait until later.”

He left them, then, and Natasha smirked.

“You’d think he wasn't used to having little guys running around his super secret avenger compound…”

“I’m glad he allowed it,” Sam said, smiling at the boys. “We’re going to have a fun weekend.”

“Can we show Ned the ball pit?” Peter asked, hopefully. “And the playground?”

“In the morning,” Tony said. “Tonight we’re going to stick with movies and games.”

“Video games?” Ned asked.

“Board games. That way _anyone_ can play.”

And the adults might have a chance of winning.

>><><<><><

“We’re so domesticated…”

Romanoff snorted, amused, and looked at the two boys who were already dressed in pajamas, but clearly wide awake, still. They were playing Yahtzee with Sam, Steve and Rhodey, while Tony and Natasha looked on. The two weren’t feeling left out; they’d played Sorry with the boys and Natasha had triumphed in the end – and Peter pointed out that she hadn’t looked too sorry when she’d sent Tony’s little red token back to the start several times.

She hadn’t been sorry, at all, she confirmed. More amused because Tony Stark pouting and huffing about losing a board game was absolutely hilarious. She’d bowed out of the next game, though, as had Tony. They were still in the lounge, though, mainly because Stark wanted to be close at hand while Ned acclimated himself to the place, and (of course) to be close to Peter. He’d been gone too long, and was definitely going to spend as much time with the boy as he could that weekend.

“You’re domesticated,” she corrected. “I’m still footloose and fancy free.”

“You think so?”

“Yup. You’re his dad. I’m just the crazy aunt who gets to play with him, get him all kinds of wound up, and then hand him back to you to deal with.”

Stark smirked.

“Peter?”

The boy looked up.

“Yeah?”

“Nat, here, just told me that she can make pancakes and wants to prove it. How about we let her make breakfast, tomorrow?”

The boy’s eyes lit up.

“Can I help?” he asked her, hopefully.

Romanoff didn’t scowl – not with Peter looking at her like that – and Tony’s expression was smug when she nodded.

“Of course, you can.”

“Me, too?” Ned asked.

“You, too.”

“Wow.”

The two boys turned their attention back to their game, and Natasha jabbed Stark in the side with her elbow.

He snorted, rubbing the spot, lightly.

“Feeling domesticated, yet?” he asked, softly.

“You realize I’ve never cooked a pancake in my life?”

“How hard can it be?”

She didn’t look convinced.

“You’re helping.”

“Sure.” Fair was fair, after all, he supposed. Of course, he’d never cooked pancakes, either. “Peter and Pepper made them while we were in South America,” he pointed out. “We’re probably as smart as the two of them.”

Still didn’t look convinced.

“We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I started the story I had put that Ned was 12, but I think I'm going to de-age him to ten so he is closer to Peter's age


	98. 98

By the time the last game of Yahtzee was finished, Tony was ready to call it a night and get the boys settled into bed.

“But I’m not tired, yet,” Peter said when the billionaire suggested it.

“You don’t have to go to _sleep_ ,” Stark told him, ignoring the way Natasha smirked at the display of rebellion, slight though it was. “But I want you in bed at a decent hour. We have a busy weekend, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Then you need sleep so you aren’t a zombie child.”

“I wouldn’t be a zombie.”

“Come on, Cheese Pizza,” Rhodey said, swinging the boy up into his arms. “I’ve never tucked a little kid into bed, before.”

The boy giggled at the manhandling, and allowed himself to be carried out of the lounge, with Ned following.

“What are you going to do when he’s sixteen and truly argues with you?” Steve asked Tony, smiling.

“Tie him up and stick him to the wall,” Stark replied. “Just like I promised Pepper she could do if he became too annoying while he was staying with her.”

Sam snorted.

“That’s awesome. Did she do it?”

“Not so far as I know.”

“Probably would have heard about that, I imagine,” Natasha said.

“From _one_ of them, anyway,” Tony agreed. “We’ll see you in the kitchen in the morning.”

She rolled her eyes, again, an air of great suffering in her expression, but the assassin smiled.

“Why not?”

He headed for Peter’s room, and the others left for their own.

><><<><>

Rhodes didn’t actually tuck either boy into the beds. He tossed Peter onto his bed and then picked Ned up and did the same to him, making sure that he landed on the rollout that had been put there for him, and making the older boy laugh, too. Ned was only a couple of years older than Peter, and enjoyed the treatment. It was something a big brother – or maybe an uncle – would do.

“Is it still snowing?” Peter asked.

Rhodes went to the window just as Tony walked into the room.

“If you’re planning on escaping by jumping out the window, they don’t open that way…”

The other man smiled, pulling the curtain aside.

“Just checking the weather. It _is_ still snowing,” he reported. “It’s coming down hard, too.”

“Maybe we’ll be snowed in,” Ned said, hopefully. “No school for a week, and all the snowmen we can build.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Tony warned, walking over to the bed and scooping Peter up into his arms to hug him once more before bedtime. “The weather is a fickle thing. You want it sunny? It rains. You want it wet? The sun shines for a week.”

“I hope it stops snowing, immediately,” Peter said, putting his arms around Tony. “That way it snows for a month.”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Stark told his son. He pressed a kiss against the little boy’s cheek. “You can watch movies if you want – as long as you stay in bed. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Ned?”

The other boy nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He set Peter down and looked at Ned, again. “Need a goodnight hug? Does Eric do that? Or Nancy?”

The older boy hesitated, looking a little hopeful, but trying to hide it.

“ _Sometimes_ …”

That made Tony smile, and he scooped Ned into his arms to hug him, too.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured to the boy.

“Thanks.” Ned’s voice was muffled by Tony’s shirt, but the arms that came around him were confident. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

Peter smiled as Tony put his friend down, simply by flopping him onto the bed.

“Goodnight, boys.”

“Night.”

“Night, guys,” Rhodey said.

The two men left and Peter reached for the remote.

“We can stream Lego Batman.”

Ned grinned, getting himself situated under the blankets.

“Awesome.”

><><><><>><

“All kitchen helpers need to wake up and report to the kitchen in ten minutes.”

Tony pulled the blankets up over his head.

“I’m _sleeping_ …”

“it’s morning,” the voice told him, cheerfully. “ _And_ it’s still snowing.”

Stark pulled the little boy into his arms, even though he was still wrapped in the blankets. Peter giggled as he was enveloped in the hug, and they both felt another body land on them, joining the dog pile in Tony’s bed.

“Natasha said it’s time for you to get your lazy rear end out of bed,” Ned reported. “Because she says she isn’t going to make pancakes by herself – and she doesn’t count me and Peter as adult supervision.”

Tony groaned, and kept one arm around Peter but pulled his blankets down with the other. Sure enough, Ned and Peter were both on his bed, now, grinning happily at him.

“She said that?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah.”

“JARVIS? What time is it?”

_“Seven.”_

“Why are you boys waking me up at seven in the morning on a Saturday?”

“Natasha said to,” Peter told him.

He scowled.

“And you listened to her?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s a grown up,” Ned said. “And she’s _pretty_.”

Tony frowned, and looked at Peter. The little boy nodded, again.

“She _is_.”

“Go tell her I’ll be there in a minute.”

Peter squirmed out of his father’s grasp, while Ned rolled off the bed.

“Okay.”

“And wash your hands.”

There was a noise that was probably agreement, and he closed his eyes as he heard the door close. The blanket went back over his head, and he plumped his pillow.

_“Natasha Romanoff is in the lounge kitchen,”_ JARVIS told him.

“It’s seven in the morning.”

“ _Correct_.”

“On a Saturday.”

_“You told the boys that you’d join them.”_

Tony groaned.

“I said in a minute,” he reminded the AI, without opening his eyes. “Wake me up in a minute.”

><><><><><>

“Well?”

The four men sitting at the table all looked up at Natasha Romanoff, who was standing beside the table watching them, expectantly. None of them mentioned the flour that was in her hair, or the smeared pancake batter on her hip where there was a perfect handprint. A small handprint, which meant it belonged to Peter or Ned.

“You don’t really expect anything but _compliments_ , do you?” Sam asked, pointedly.

The pancakes that Peter and Ned had delivered proudly to the table had been edible, but so _ugly_. Peter had explained that he and Ned had convinced Natasha and Tony to make the pancakes shaped like Avengers, in deference to the people waiting to eat them. The result was fair proof that Tony and Natasha’s pancake artistic skills were on par with Peter’s drawing abilities.

The men; Steve, Sam, Rhodey and Nick, were all aware that they only had one response to her question. She was a trained killer, after all, and probably knew more ways to kill a man (and undoubtably _painful_ ways) than all of them, combined.

“They were good,” Steve assured her.

“Like eating a Picasso,” Fury said, blandly.

Romanoff’s killer gaze turned amused. She knew that was a two-edged compliment. Yes, Picasso was an artist, but most of his stuff looked like the canvas had thrown up the paint in a drunken night of partying.

“I’ll take it.”

Peter came out of the kitchen, then, and Fury turned his attention to the little boy.

“Where’s your dad?”

“Doing dishes with Ned.”

Peter’s hair was dusted with flour, too, and there was egg yolk on his neck and shirt.

“Does he know how messy you are, right now?”

The little boy grinned.

“Yeah.”

“Did you eat?” Sam asked. “Or did Natasha chain you to the stove?”

Peter shook his head, clearly happy.

“We ate.”

Romanoff’s hand came to rest on Peter’s shoulder.

“Of course, I fed him. _Ned_ , too.” She smirked. “I even fed Stark before I put him to work doing the dishes.”

“We get to go outside and play in the snow, now,” Peter said, excitedly.

“Not until you get cleaned up,” Nick told the boy. “I’m not going to have you out in the cold with all that goop smeared on you. Or on Ned. We’ve done the sick kid thing, once, already. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then finish cleaning up whatever mess you guys made, go clean your little selves, and then make sure you are bundled in warm snow clothes – with mittens to keep your hands warm. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Go.”

Nick waved the boy back to the kitchen and Peter obeyed, happily skipping back into the kitchen.

“You’re such a _grandpa_ ,” Natasha said, clearly amused at the way Nick handled the boy.

“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t _say_ that,” Fury told her. “What is the weather looking like, out there?”

“Snow,” Rhodey replied, also amused. “A lot of snow.”

“Good. You guys are excused to go spend time with our young guests and wear them out so they don’t run amok in my compound, this evening.”

“Yes, sir.”


	99. 99

“This is so cool…”

Peter smiled his agreement.

“Yeah.”

They were changing into warm clothes after finishing getting cleaned up. The day was still very young, and both of them were excited about spending time out in what certainly looked like a blizzard to them.

“You must be used to being with Tony and the avengers,” Ned said. He grinned. “I can’t believe I get to call Tony Stark _Tony_. It’s awesome.”

“You think _that’s_ awesome?” Peter said, pulling on the long-sleeved thermal shirt that Tony had outfitted him with in preparation of the snow. “Try calling him _dad_.”

Ned smiled.

“True. Does he let you play with the Ironman suit?”

“No.” Peter grinned. “But I’ve _touched_ it.”

“Wow.”

A knock on the door interrupted them, startling Ned, and Tony’s head poked in.

“You guys almost ready?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s still snowing,” Ned added.

“I saw.” Tony was dressed in jeans, a thermal shirt similar to Peter’s (and Ned’s) and a sweatshirt over that. “Plenty of snow for a snowman, looks like.”

“Maybe even a snow fort,” Peter said. “We could build it by the playset.”

“A fort by a fort?” Tony asked, shrugging. “We’ll see.” He walked into the room and sat down on the bed, gesturing for Peter to move closer. When he did, Tony put Peter’s coat on the boy, and then turned him around and zipped it up, his eyes meeting Peter’s brown ones. “Got your mittens?”

“Yeah.”

“Ned?”

The bigger boy smiled as he put his own coat on, zipping it up.

“Yup.”

“Let’s go over some ground rules for today.”

Ned walked over to stand in front of Tony, too.

“Like what?”

He didn’t look at all concerned about having rules. It was exciting to both boys but to Ned, especially.

“It’s going to be tempting to have a snowball fight,” Tony said. “And that’s fine, but I don’t want anyone getting hit in the head, or in the face and maybe getting hurt. So no aiming at each other’s heads. Yeah?”

Both boys nodded their agreement.

“Okay.”

They didn’t want to hurt anyone, either.

“If the playset that Steve built is too slick, no climbing on it. Play on the slide, but not the monkey bars, or anything.”

“Yeah.”

“What else?” Peter asked, leaning on Tony’s knee, expectantly.

He was clearly ready to go play.

“If you get cold, come in and warm up for a while. No frozen fingers at the end of the day.”

Ned nodded.

“I heard about a guy who actually had his hands fall off because they froze.”

Since Stark doubted that had actually happened, he wasn't too concerned. He nodded, though.

“We don’t want that to happen to you guys, right?”

“Right.”

“Then go play. No wandering off.”

The boys didn’t wait to be told, twice. Like they’d been shot from a cannon, both of them ran from the room and since they hadn’t closed the door, Tony had no trouble hearing the echoing sounds of their laughter and snow boots clumping along. He was slower to follow, but wasn't concerned. There were avengers everywhere, and the place was crawling with SHIELD agents, both working and not.

The boys were fine.

><><><>

They _were_ fine, too, he discovered as he walked outside the gym door that led to the field.

And was promptly hit in the chest with a snowball. A quick glance showed Ned and Peter playing on the playset with Sam and being watched by Natasha – all of whom were bundled warmly in heavy coats against the rapidly falling snow.

“Gotcha!”

Stark rolled his eyes, amused, as Rhodey walked over, forming another snowball as he did.

“What are you, six?” Tony asked, casually leaning down, and scooping up his own handful of snow. It was wet and packed well. “I told the boys no aiming at the head with snowballs,” he added, throwing the newly formed snowball at his friend and smiling when he managed to land it, even though Rhodes tried to dodge. “So we’ll need to set an example.”

“Tony Stark? Being an example – for anyone, especially a couple of little kids? No one would ever believe me.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“We all have to grow up, sometime.”

That made Rhodes smile, and his expression softened.

“I’m proud of you, Tony.”

“I still have a reputation to uphold,” Tony said. “So don’t spread it around, too much.”

Before his friend could say anything, another snowball came sailing in, striking Stark in the shoulder. Both men looked over, and saw Peter and Ned standing at the bottom of the slide. Even from the distance they were at, there was no disguising the twin innocent looks on their little faces – although Ned was pointing directly at Peter, as if to make sure there was no mistaking the transgressor.

“Oh, it’s on,” Tony told his son, reaching down for more snow, and already moving toward the boy.

Peter squealed with delight and turned and ran, his little legs no match for Tony’s longer ones.

“Natasha! _Help_!”

The assassin looked over as the boy ran by, but only smiled, shaking her head.

Tony caught up to Peter and swept him up into his arms, looking around and finding the perfect snow drift to dump him into. The little guy giggled, even as his father started kicking snow onto him, but was rescued by Ned, who rushed up and grabbed Tony’s leg and wrapped himself around it.

“Run, Peter!”

He didn’t, of course. Instead, Peter scrambled to his feet and joined the fray, taking Tony’s other leg and wrapping arms and legs around it. The extra weight overbalanced Stark and he tried to save himself but was soon falling backwards into the same drift he’d tossed Peter into. Both little boys jumped on him the moment he was down, and Tony wrapped them both into his arms to try and keep them from white-washing him with snow.

“Think we should rescue him?” Steve asked, walking over to stand close to the skirmish.

Natasha shook her head, still smiling.

“I don’t know. He’s a grown man… he should be able to handle two little boys.”

“I’m a grown man who was _ambushed_ ,” Tony pointed out, an arm hooking around Peter as he tossed him to the side, careful not to hurt him, but still allowing him some rough and tumble because he knew that Peter loved to be tossed around. “Save me, or you guys are going to be making dinner while I thaw out?”

“He did promise us take-out, tonight,” Sam reminded them, smirking when Peter dove onto Tony with a triumphant yell, even as Ned was tossed aside in a similar fashion as the younger boy had been. “If we don’t save him, then it’s probably something unbearably healthy, instead.”

“We could form a committee and vote on it…” Rhodey suggested, wincing when Peter’s knee caught Tony in the stomach – although it was certainly better than hitting him _lower_. “All in favor of-“

“Arghh!” Tony yelped, exaggerating the danger he was in, but making both boys laugh as they were tossed aside, once more.

Before they could regain their feet, both found themselves under attack, and now, though, the other adults joined in, picking sides without even discussing it. Romanoff scooped Ned up and tossed him aside, making sure he landed in a soft drift of snow, while Steve went for Peter – and Sam and Rhodes attacked Tony, pushing him back to the snow, once more.

“Et tu, Brutus?” Tony managed, just as he saw Peter dive onto Sam’s back, now trying to protect Tony, instead.

Lines in the sand could be fickle things when you’re eight, after all.


	100. 100

The Great Snow Battle lasted much longer than any of the adults had intended. Faced with the boundless energy of the two boys – and an unwillingness to bring their fun to an end any sooner than they absolutely had to – Tony and the others found themselves embroiled in an epic snow scuffle, which then became a snowball fight, which them transformed into an intense game of tag that involved a lot of high-pitched giggling from the boys, and a lot of gasping as those adults who were in less astounding shape found themselves trying to keep up.

Tony finally called a halt, scowling at Steve, who had taken off his coat because he was getting warm with all the running around, but wasn't even sweating.

“That was definitely an entertaining way to spend a Saturday morning,” Rogers said, watching as Sam and Natasha rounded Peter and Ned up with a couple of well-placed snowballs to get their attention. “I haven’t had so much fun since I was probably the same age as Peter.”

“He certainly makes things more lively, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Now that he wasn't moving around, Steve put his jacket back on. “What do you have planned for the rest of the day?”

“Warm them up and feed them lunch,” Stark replied, unable to keep from smiling at the shriek of laughter that bubbled from Peter when Sam picked him up and slung him over his shoulder. “Then inside games, or a movie – whatever they want to do. Don’t make any plans for after dinner, though.”

“Oh?”

“Peter has something for you guys, and I don’t want to have to track you down, individually so he can give them to you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a _surprise_.”

Well aware that Stark wasn't going to tell him if he didn’t want him to know – and if he didn’t want to spoil Peter’s surprise, then he definitely didn’t want them to know – Steve changed the subject.

“The snow’s coming down pretty hard. Have you checked to see if they’re worried about it? Back in the city, I mean?”

“It’s fine,” Tony assured him. “There are snowplows and-“

“I meant the _school district_ ,” Steve interrupted. “If it’s snowing there like it’s snowing _here_ , you might be looking at a snow day.”

Huh.

Tony looked up at the sky, even as Peter and Ned came running over, herded by the other adults. Both boys were soaked from all the snow melting on them and their cheeks were red with cold. But their eyes were happy and excited.

“That was fun,” Ned told him, grinning.

Of course, he’d spent the entire morning hanging out with avengers. Of course it was fun. The time of his life, Tony was sure.

“You _looked_ like you were having fun,” Tony agreed. He caught Peter’s hood with one hand, and Ned’s with the other, making both boys look up at him. “I want you guys to go get dried off. Clean, dry, clothes and use towels on your hair to get it dried. Yeah?”

“Okay,” Peter nodded.

“We’re done outside for a while – maybe the rest of the day – so put something warm and fuzzy on.”

“Not _pajamas_ , though,” Peter said.

He wasn't ready for bed.

“No. Sweats, and long-sleeved shirts.”

“Okay.”

“And warm socks,” Steve added. He shrugged at Tony’s look. “Feet get cold, here, in the winter. You don’t want him sick, again, do you?”

“Warm socks,” Tony agreed, looking at the boys.

Peter smiled and nodded.

“Yeah.”

><><><>

“That was really fun,” Ned said as the two boys walked along the corridor toward Peter’s room.

Peter nodded his agreement.

“Yeah.”

Ned hesitated, looking around the hall as they walked.

“What’s it like to be adopted?” he asked his friend. “Is there a test?”

Peter was surprised by the question.

“No. I mean, I didn’t have one with Tony. He just had to sign a whole bunch of papers – and I had to sign one, too – and then we talked to a judge, who signed some papers, too. That was it.”

“It sounds pretty simple.”

“It was.” He looked at his friend. “Are you nervous about being adopted?”

“A little.”

“Eric’s great. So is Nancy.”

“Yeah. No, I’m not nervous about _them_. I love them. I’ve been with them more than a year before you even came along. It was exciting when Eric asked me, because I was really afraid I’d be moved – especially after they moved you out.”

“Then why are you nervous?”

“I’ve never had a dad, before,” Ned pointed out. “What if I do it wrong?”

“I don’t think you will. Eric knows how to be a dad, already. He’ll show you.”

“I hope so. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

Peter understood that feeling, completely.

“You won’t.” Ned was his friend, after all. You didn’t tell your friend anything but things that would make them feel good. “You’re lucky,” he added.

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to have a _mom_ , too. That’s twice the love, right?”

Ned was quiet for a minute.

“I didn’t think of that.” He smiled. “ _And_ a big brother.”

That made Peter smile, too.

“And a _little_ brother?” he asked, hopefully.

“Always,” Ned assured him, offering him his hand.

Peter shook it, and then hugged himself as they stopped in front of his door.

“I never had a brother.”

“Now you have,” Ned replied. “Especially when I start going to your school. We can hang out, together.”

Peter hadn’t thought of that. He didn’t hang out with anyone at his school, being so much younger than them. He didn’t have anything in common with them, and they were so much older that they didn’t bother trying. Some of the girls would smile at him and call him cute – or, worse, _adorable_ – but they baby-talked him, and he hated that.

“Wow.”

“Don’t sound too excited,” Ned warned him, pulling his big bag of clothing from the closet to start digging for sweats. “I’m not that cool, yet.”

“Cool enough.”

“I’ll give you lessons,” Ned promised.

Peter smiled.

“Thanks.”

They changed into dry clothes, including warm socks, and hung the wet clothes up. Not normal behavior for a little boy, maybe, but something that Eric insisted on at the foster home, so it was pretty much second nature for both boys to be tidier than the norm. Before going to the lounge, where they were supposed to meet up with Tony eventually, they stopped at Peter’s little table, drawn by the toys and the fact that they didn’t have a set schedule that day. The younger boy picked up Legos, but Ned was more interested in the Hot Wheels, and he pushed Peter’s Batmobile around the surface of the table, avoiding Peter’s Legos with the impressive screaming of brakes and proper shifting to rev the engine.

“Does Mr. Stark have a girlfriend?” He asked, curiously.

The billionaire had told Peter’s friend he could call him Tony, and Ned had – a couple of times. But it seemed weird to do so, and he reverted back to Mr. Stark most of the time.

“No.” Peter smiled. “I asked him. He said he wants to spend his time with me, and doesn’t want to take away from that time to court a lady friend.”

“He said court?”

“Yeah.”

Ned parked the Hot Wheel in Peter’s Lego Batcave.

“Too bad,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because if he got married, then _you’d_ have a mom, too.”

That made Peter smile.

“It’d be pretty neat,” he admitted. “Unless she was evil, or something – like in the fairy tales.”

“Yeah.” The older boy glanced at Peter’s bookshelf, at the large collection of books. “Mr. Stark wouldn’t let her be mean to you, though. He didn’t let Miss Marples, right?”

“True.” He shrugged. “I like Natasha,” he told Ned. “And Pepper.”

“Then you should see if one of them and-“

They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Rhodey stuck his head into the room.

“Hey, Cheese Pizza. You and Ned ready for lunch?”

Peter nodded, but Ned smiled as they walked over to join him at the door.

“Why do you call him that?”

“What? _Cheese Pizza_?” Rhodes asked, holding the door for the boys and then closing it before offering each one a hand.

“Yeah.”

“It’s just a nickname. Something from when we met. Besides, I like cheese pizza, and I like Peter, so it fits.”

Ned took the hand given to him, smiling at Peter.

“I need a cool Avenger nickname…”

“Cheese Pizza isn’t going to be my avenger name,” Peter assured him, taking the man’s hand and feeling happy because Rhodes knew the compound was probably the safest place on the planet so the boys didn’t _need_ him to hold their hands. That meant he just _wanted_ to. It made Peter feel wanted, and cared for. “That’s just what Rhodey calls me. It’s just for us.”

“Right,” the man agreed, winking down at Peter. “When you get older, you’ll have to come up with a good superhero name. Something that you can grow into.”

“I want a superhero name, too,” Ned said, excitedly.

“I don’t see why you can’t have one, too,” he said. “Plenty of time, though. For now, we’ll worry about lunch. Yeah?”

Both boys nodded.

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 chapters - and so much of it is fluff! Thanks for sticking with it :)


	101. 101

Tony and Steve were waiting in the lounge.

“Where’s everyone else?” Rhodes asked, allowing the boys to free their hands (although he had to admit that even the domesticity of holding little hands was enjoyable) and looking around, while Peter sidled up to Stark’s chair in greeting.

The man smiled down at his son and ran his fingers through his still-damp curls.

“They went to get lunch.”

“What are we having?” Ned asked, finding a chair next to Steve, and feeling yet another thrill go through him.

He was sitting beside _Captain America_!

“KFC.”

That was met with enthusiasm. Peter took the spot beside Tony, and Rhodes sat down with them.

“Can we play in the gym after lunch?” he asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

Tony wondered if he had any idea just how adorable he looked when he did that. If _he_ could pull that look off, he’d be able to do anything – and _anyone_ – he was sure.

“Rhodey’s leaving after lunch,” he told his son. “If you want to give them all their surprises at the same time, then you should take care of that after we eat, before he goes.”

“What _kind_ of surprises?” Ned asked, curiously.

Peter smiled, feeling excited.

“I got _everyone_ something. Even you,” he added.

“You did? What is it?”

“It’s a surprise,” Tony reminded the older boy. “So Peter can’t tell you.”

“Awwww.” Ned wasn't above theatrics, if he needed them. “Give me a hint?”

“It’s _white_ ,” Stark said, using the same hint that his son had given him. “And it isn’t underwear.”

Peter giggled at that, but before Ned could start trying to get more information, there was a commotion at the entrance to the lounge and the others entered, arms filled with bags that smelled amazing.

“Lunch is on!” Romanoff declared, cheerfully.

><><><><><>

“This is _awesome_!”

Rhodey frowned, looking over at Ned, who had immediately slipped his batman shirt on over the long-sleeved shirt that he was wearing.

Peter smiled at his friend.

“I got Tony and Pepper one, too.”

“Thanks,” Ned told him, beaming. Both boys looked at the avengers, expectantly. “Try them on,” Ned suggested.

“Yes,” Tony agreed, smirking, amused at the lack of enthusiasm that they were all forced to hide to keep from letting Peter see it. “Put on the Batman shirts.”

“I think mine is great,” Natasha said, sliding the pink shirt with the black and yellow logo on, easily. “Thank you for thinking of me, Peter.”

Peter was excited, and incredibly happy.

“You’re welcome.”

“Next time, you need to go to _War Machine_ land,” Rhodes told the boy. He put his shirt on, too, ignoring Tony’s enjoyment. “I bet the shirts there would be even cooler than Batman.”

“Is there a War Machine Land?” Ned asked, looking impressed.

“There should be.”

Sam and Steve also tried their shirts on, and it was clear that Pepper had helped, because Peter had shirts that fit all of them, perfectly. Soon everyone in the room was wearing Batman on their chests – except Peter and Tony.

“Let’s get a picture,” Tony suggested, smugly. It was fun when it was happening to someone else, after all. “Peter promised Pepper.”

They rolled their eyes, but grouped themselves together. Peter and Tony joined in, and one of the kitchen staff snapped a couple of photos on Tony’s phone. He immediately shared them out to the others’ phones – including Peter’s and even to Ned, who was clearly excited about being able to show that picture to everyone he knew.

“We’ll get you a print made before you go home,” Tony promised Ned, who grinned, excitedly.

“Thanks.”

“Speaking of going home,” Rhodes said. “I’m going to head out – before the snow gets too deep and I’m stuck here until spring thaw.”

“Could that happen?” Ned asked, wide-eyed.

And maybe a little hopeful.

“Nope.” Tony smiled to soften the boy’s disappointment. “Might have a snow day, though, if it keeps falling.”

“Wow.”

“Thank you for the shirt,” Natasha told Peter, sweeping him up into her arms and hugging him, close.

“You’re welcome.”

“Yes, thanks Cheese Pizza,” Rhodey said, also hugging him. “Tony? Pizza at the Palace, next week?”

“Correct.”

“You’re coming, again?” Ned asked, cheerfully.

“Of course.”

That made Peter look happy, too.

“Can we go play in the gym?” he asked Tony.

Stark looked at Natasha and Steve, and they understood immediately that he was asking their opinion of that idea.

“It’s safe,” Steve confirmed. “Your AI is everywhere, and we have cameras and security people roaming. If they don’t want adults hovering over them while they play, they’re good to go, really.”

Natasha nodded her agreement.

“I might drop by, later, though, to play in the ball pit.”

Peter smiled at that and then turned back to Tony.

_“Please?”_

He didn’t have a defense against that little face and those big eyes.

“Yeah. Go ahead. I’ll be here,” he added. “When you guys get bored, we’ll play some games.”

“Video games?” Ned asked.

Ugh.

“Whatever you want.”

The compound was ready for Peter and Ned. That had meant bringing in video games, as well as board games.

“Wow.” Ned nudged Peter. “Come on.”

They hurried out of the room, and Natasha smiled.

“I used to have that much energy.”

“I never had that much energy,” Tony assured her. “Do you think they’d be annoyed if I wandered that way and watched them?”

“Do you have other things you could be doing?”

“I always have things I could be doing. I don’t want him to think I’m tired of spending time with him, though.”

“Maybe he needs a chance to spread his little wings a bit,” Sam said. “Poppa’s been hovering – as you should be – but he’s safe, here, and he should start getting used to the idea.”

Natasha shrugged her acceptance of that when Tony looked at her, and Steve and Rhodes both nodded.

“Sounds right,” Rhodey said. “Why don’t you walk me to my car? Then you might swing by the gym and peek in on them to make sure they don’t need anything.”

“And remind your AI to contact us, if he does,” Steve added, even though SHIELD would inform him, as well, if something looked amiss.

There was a blizzard, pretty much, going on outside. No one was going to be storming the compound that afternoon.

><><><><>

“You good?”

Tony nodded, watching as his friend tossed his overnight bag into the SUV he was driving back to the city.

“Yeah. You sure you want to drive in this? You could stay the rest of the weekend.”

“Places to go and people to see, Tony,” Rhodes told him. “Besides, I need to go show off my new t-shirt to all the guys.”

Stark snorted at that.

“Well, then, I’m going to go play with Legos without you.”

“Have fun with that.”

He waited until Rhodes drove away and then went back inside, shivering because it was chilly out. A quick stop at the gym (and a peek inside without letting the boys see him) confirmed that Peter and Ned were enjoying themselves. The ball pit was clearly a hit, still, because both boys were inside the netted area, flinging balls at each other. The large room echoed with their laughter.

Tony shut the door behind him, quietly, and then headed for his workroom. He could go play with Legos, of course, but he was Ironman. There were plenty of toys for him to play with.

“JARVIS? Let me know if they go anywhere.”

“Will do.”


	102. 102

After a morning of snow fights, and an afternoon of playing in the gym, both boys were ready to settle down a little. They ate dinner with the others, and Peter felt warmed by the fact that none of the others had taken their Batman shirts off. Ned even proclaimed that he was going to sleep in his.

“You have homework?” Tony asked Peter after the little boy finished eating.

“Yes.”

“Is it hard?”

Meaning, did he need help with it?

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Why don’t you work on it, now, and then you and Ned can play video games or watch a movie until bedtime.”

Peter looked at Ned, who nodded, and he nodded, too.

“Okay.”

“Can I watch you do your homework, Peter?” Ned asked, hopefully.

“It’s just physics,” his friend replied. “But yeah.”

They jumped down from their chairs and ran out of the lounge. Sam rolled his eyes.

_“It’s just physics,”_ he repeated, shaking his head. “That little boy is insanely smart.”

Which made Tony smile.

“I know.”’

“He isn’t going to be going away to college anytime soon, though, right?” Natasha asked, frowning. “I mean, he’s taking college classes, right? He’s only _eight_. You can’t send him to-“

Tony raised a hand, shaking his head and pleased at how concerned she looked. Peter would never have a stauncher supporter than him, but Tony knew that he couldn’t have a deadlier advocate than Romanoff, and he liked that she was already so integral in his son’s life.

“I’m not sending him anywhere. He isn’t starting the college courses until next year, and it’s only going to be a few – and they will be at his current school. He’s advanced in math and science – and engineering, of course – but he still has a ton of things to learn. The college classes will be designed to keep him interested in his studies while he’s catching up in the rest of it.”

“Good.”

“Besides,” Tony added. “I just _got_ him. I’m not going to let him go anywhere away from me for a long time.”

><><><>

Both boys were sitting at the little table in Peter’s room when Tony came to find them an hour or so later. Since they were playing with Legos, Tony assumed that Peter had finished his homework, but he decided it didn’t hurt to make sure, even as he walked over to lean over Peter and hug him from behind.

That was what dads did, right?

“Homework done?” he asked.

Peter nodded, smiling up at him.

“Yeah. It was easy.”

“I _helped_ ,” Ned added. “Kind of.”

Tony smiled at that.

“Good. Are you guys going to watch a movie? Or keep doing what you’re doing?”

Peter looked hopeful.

“Do you want to watch a movie with us?”

“I would, if you wanted the company.”

“Yeah.”

So the boys stopped what they were doing, and ten minutes later they were in a jumble on Peter’s bed. Tony in between Ned and Peter, with both boys cuddled against either side of him and all of them covered with blankets, even though the room wasn't cold.

Tony knew he was pretty much stuck where he was, even when the boys fell asleep – which he knew they would considering the active day that they’d had. It would be hard to get out of the bed without waking one or the other. He didn’t mind, though. He had managed to get some work done, earlier, while the boys were playing in the gym, so he didn’t feel at all guilty about spending the evening lounging around watching movies.

Besides, with the snow still falling outside, he had no plans to go anywhere, anyway.

><><><>>

Peter’s room was dark when he woke from the dream that he’d been having.

Not a scary dream; Peter was having less and less scary dreams, now. This dream had been a good one; he’d been sledding with Tony. The others had been there, too, but Tony had been the one featured in the dream, and it was only a bonus that the man was next to him when the boy opened his eyes.

He smiled, feeling warm and safe. Instead of moving, Peter closed his eyes, again, savoring the fact that when Tony had fallen asleep he’d done so with an arm around him. He was too restless to lay still, though, and after only a few minutes his eyes opened, again. The room was dark, but Peter had no trouble seeing even in the low light. He was also very good at moving stealthily, which is what he did when he slid out from Tony’s embrace and then out of his bed, leaving Ned and Tony both snoring, softly.

Then he left them to their sleep and quietly shut the door behind him.

The corridor outside his room was quiet but not dark. They always had lights on, Peter knew, in order to make sure the security people could see everything that was going on and any potential threat. Natasha had told him that, explaining how the defenses in the compound worked so he’d understand if anyone had woken him in the middle of the night with an emergency. The boy waved at one of the almost invisible cameras as he walked by it on his way to the lounge.

He didn’t stop at the little table, though. Instead he went to the large picture window and sat on the couch that was under it. Sat on it _backwards_ – on his knees – so that he could hook his hands on the back of it and look out the window at the snow.

><><><><><

“What are you doing up, little man?”

Peter turned his gaze from the window and looked up at Nick who had walked up silently behind him.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Where’s your dad?”

“Asleep.”

Fury walked over to the sofa, and reached out, running his hand along Peter’s forehead.

“Are you feeling sick?”

“No.”

“Thirsty?”

“No.”

“Hungry?”

Peter smiled.

“No. Just not sleepy. I’m okay.”

The SHIELD director sat down on the sofa.

“Something bothering you?”

“No.”

“Someone at school bullying you? You’re a lot smaller and younger than them all.”

The boy shook his head.

“Maria and Phil wouldn’t let anyone do that. And no one really did that, _before_ , either.”

“Before Tony, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“So, there’s _really_ nothing bothering you?”

“Nope.”

Fury frowned.

“Then why are you awake in the middle of the night?”

“Because I don’t sleep too good, sometimes.”

“You don’t sleep too _well_ ,” Nick corrected him, automatically. “What does Tony do when you can’t sleep?”

“Sometimes he doesn’t know, because I don’t tell him. I talk to _JARVIS_.”

“The AI? About what?”

“Everything. He’ll tell me stories, or give me math problems to solve. Sometimes he asks me about what I can do.”

“Your new abilities, you mean?” Fury asked. “Or the ones that you’ve always had? Like being smart.”

“Mostly the _new_ ones. I don’t really know all that I can do,” Peter said, settling on the couch, now, instead of still being on his knees so he could look out the window. Nick Fury was more interesting than snow, after all. “I think he’s trying to figure it out for me.”

“Has he?”

“Not, yet.” Peter didn’t look too concerned. “He reminds me that I’m still pretty little, though, and that we have a lot of time.”

“He’s right about that. There’s no rush.”

“No. I know.”

“What else does the computer talk to you about?”

“He asks me about before,” the little boy said. “About what I remember about my parents, and what it was like living with May.”

“Sounds like he’s trying to know all there is to know about you.”

Nick could relate; he was doing the exact same thing, after all. A middle of the night interrogation.

Peter smiled at that.

“He’s really neat.”

“I can tell.” Fury was very relaxed with Peter. Probably more than he was with almost anyone. The week that the boy had been sick at the compound had allowed all of them a chance to get to know him, and lose any awkwardness with him. Having someone sit on your lap and wipe their nose on your neck will do that, after all. “What do you do in the middle of the night when you’re not talking to JARVIS?”

“I read. Or play. Or draw. Or sometimes Tony wakes up and comes.”

“Yeah? Then what?”

“Depends, I guess.”

“On?”

“If he’s sleepy. If he is, then he takes me back to bed, or to the couch, and he’ll hold me in his lap. Sometimes he reads to me, and sometimes he just hums or sings to me. Then I wake up in the morning.”

The eye widened, slightly.

“He sings to you?”

“Not loud,” Peter temporized. “Just soft. I like it. My mom and dad used to do it.”

“Yeah?” Nick reached out and pulled Peter into his lap and the boy went willingly. He was comfortable with the SHIELD director, too, and for the same reason, really. He felt Nick’s arms come around him, and Peter rested his cheek against the man’s collarbone. Nick was a lot harder than Tony, more muscular, but he was still comfortable – and Peter loved being held more than anything in the world. “What about your aunt? Did she?”

“Sometimes. It was nice when she did. She was usually pretty busy, though, with her betting, or with the boyfriends.”

Fury scowled at that response, although Peter didn’t see it. He’d already run a check on the people that May Parker had buddied around with during the two years that she’d been Peter’s guardian, and he hadn’t been impressed with the woman’s choices. Not surprised, either, though, considering how things had ended for her.

“None of those guys ever hurt you, did they?”

Peter shook his head, bringing his arms around Nick and feeling himself relaxing, completely, now. He closed his eyes, listening to, and feeling the deep rumble of the man’s voice when he spoke.

“No. One did. He slapped me in the back of the head when I pointed out that he had his odds wrong, but May yelled at him and he didn’t do it again. He even said he was sorry.”

“To you?”

“To her. She said I was her cash cow and that if he did it again she’d kill him. I don’t think she really meant it, though. He was bigger than her. But he left me alone.”

“Good.” Nick didn’t think much of May, but he wasn't going to tell Peter that. The little boy had loved his aunt, and Nick wasn't going to crush that memory, even when it was obvious that the woman hadn’t thought of her nephew as more than a commodity. “Do you even know what a cash cow is?”

“No. I just liked that she yelled at him. And then she made sure I wasn't hurt.”

“I see.”

“What’s a cash cow?”

“An amazing person,” Nick assured him, running his fingers through Peter’s fine curls. “Someone who is going to grow up to do amazing things.”

“Really?”

Peter was practically asleep, now, and despite his lack of experience with kids, Fury had held enough lovers that he knew when someone was falling asleep on him. Not the same thing, of course, but the way Peter’s weight seemed to double was a sure indicator.

“Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you, would I?”

“No.”

“No.”

Peter made a soft sound of contentment.

“Tell me a story, Nick…”

“I can do that.” He glanced around to make sure no one was watching – although there were security cameras in the lounge, and he’d have to find the footage, eventually and destroy the evidence – Nick shifted just a little to get more comfortable under the boy – and to get the pointy knee out of his thigh. “Once, a long time ago… there was an idea.”

“Yeah…?”

It was a sleepy response.

“Yup. About forming a group of extraordinary people together and making them into a team.”

“Wow…”

Nick started the story, but despite the fact that it was a story very few people knew, and it was interesting, Peter was too far gone by then to have anything pull him back. The embrace, and the soft tone, the heartbeat that wasn't his own, and the vibration of that deep voice all worked together and lulled him back to sleep within minutes.

Fury finished the story, but the only ones listening, now, were the Lego figures on the little table in the corner – and none of them seemed at all interested. He debated picking Peter up and putting him back to bed – or putting him in Tony’s bed – but opted for neither. He didn’t want to wake the boy, now that he had him asleep. In the weirdest version of Coyote Ugly that he’d ever found himself in, the man made himself more comfortable, and just waited for morning.

Or for someone to come rescue him.


	103. 103

Eventually it was Stark who came looking for Peter.

The billionaire had woken to find the boy gone. In deference to wanting to keep from waking Ned, Tony had slipped carefully out of the bed and had immediately asked JARVIS where Peter was when he hadn’t seen him in the room and the dark bathroom was a sure indicator that he wasn't in there.

Nick looked up when the motion caught his eye and he acknowledged Tony’s arrival in the lounge with a nod and a slight smile.

“Looking for someone?”

Tony walked over, smiling down at the sleeping boy who was clearly comfortable in Nick’s embrace.

“How long have you been like that?”

Fury glanced at the clock on the opposite wall.

“Almost three hours.”

“You could have called me.”

“Yes. I’m aware.”

“Can I have him back?”

“My rear is numb.”

A smirk played across Tony’s handsome face, and he moved, reaching down as Nick shifted his grip in order to lift the sleeping child up to his father. Peter roused with a change in his breathing, although he didn’t open his eyes.

“What’s…?”

“Shhh…” Tony soothed, gathering the boy against his chest, and tucking him under his chin. “Go back to sleep.”

“I’m not tired…”

Nick snorted softly at the automatic denial and got to his feet, as well, stretching. He looked out the window,

“Still snowing.”

“Yeah. It’s getting deep.”

‘What are you and the boys doing today?”

Tony looked out the window, as well. It was still dark, but they could see the snow falling in the glow of the security lights.

“They’re going to want to play outside, no doubt. You?”

“We have a few SHIELD agents coming in for a preliminary briefing.”

“Another mission?”

Nick nodded, but he smiled.

“Yes, but not one where ironman will be needed. Go back to bed, Tony,” the man ordered, patting his shoulder. “I’m going to do the same.”

It was still early, after all.

“Yeah. Thanks, Nick.”

“You’re welcome.”

They parted company at the entrance to the lounge. Nick heading for his rooms, and Tony turning toward Peter’s. There weren’t many people in the corridors this early, so he didn’t run into anyone. He had no trouble putting Peter back to bed – the boy didn’t even open his eyes – and Tony pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek, settling the bear into Peter’s embrace before covering him up.

He could have simply joined him and Ned, but he had a few things to do before he went back to sleep, now that he was awake, and he definitely wanted to take a look at the weather forecast. Not something that he ever would have been concerned with, before, but if the city was getting dumped on like the compound was, it was very possible that there might be a snow day called, and as a parent, he needed to know.

He closed the door, silently, behind him as he left Peter’s room.

><><><><

Breakfast was a hurried affair. Not for Tony, or for Natasha who joined him and the boys when they arrived at the lounge several hours after Tony had put Peter back into his bed, but Ned and Peter were both eager to make their way through their meal, and it showed.

“Slow down, guys,” Romanoff said. “You’re going to choke.”

Since Peter had just shoved an entire piece of toast into his mouth, she really _did_ look concerned.

“Chew that,” Tony said, frowning at his son. “We talked about you doing that, remember?”

Peter nodded, but didn’t reply, knowing Tony wouldn’t want him to try talking and chewing at the same time.

“When we get done eating, we get to go outside,” Ned explained. “We’re going to build a snowman.”

She looked over at Stark, who nodded.

“Yup.”

“Are you going to help?”

“I’m going to _supervise_.”

“Want to come?” Peter asked, mouth finally cleared enough to communicate.

Natasha smiled.

“I might, later. We have some people coming in, today, to go over some planning.”

“For a _mission_?” Ned asked, eagerly.

“Something like that,” she replied, evasively.

Tony wasn't the only one to smile at that.

“It _is_ , isn’t it?” Ned said. “Is it Thor? Or the hulk?”

“ _SHIELD_ _agents_ ,” she told them. “If they stick around for lunch I’ll introduce you.”

“Wow.”

“Have either of you actually built a snowman?” Romanoff asked the boy.

They lived in a big city, after all. There weren’t a lot of places to do something like that, really.

“I have,” Ned assured her.

“I haven’t,” Peter said. “But I’ve seen it done, before – and I saw _Frosty the Snowman_ ,” he added.

She knew since she’d been there that day.

“I’ll make sure he does it right,” Tony said.

“You’re going to need a carrot,” Natasha pointed out. “And something for eyes and mouth, since I know we don’t have coal.”

“We have charcoal left over from the last summer barbeque,” Tony said. “I’ll dig it out, when we need it.”

>><><><>

The morning was productive – for the boys. Tony didn’t get anything done. Of course, he didn’t have anything that he absolutely had to get finished, anyway. His newest suit was coming along the development stage, nicely. He’d have it done if he didn’t have Peter to watch over and entertain, but Tony didn’t even think of it that way. He loved having Peter, and the suit was still going to get finished, even if it took a little longer.

The snowman turned out great, and Peter’s strength made rolling large balls of snow easier for the boys, even though Ned wasn't let in on his friend’s secret. They had been interrupted by the arrival of the Quinjet, which had landed on the other side of the compound. Peter and Ned had begged Tony to let them go look at it, but he’d pointed out that the SHIELD agents would be _leaving_ in it, too, and if they wanted to wait, then they could actually watch it take off.

They’d agreed, and had gone back to their snowman, talking excitedly as they created not one, but two of them before they finally had to admit that they were getting cold, and hungry – and maybe a little tired.

“We’ll show them off to the others, later,” Tony told the boys as they stuck carrots and charcoal briquets into the heads of the snowmen, making smiling faces on both. “Why don’t you guys go get changed out of your wet clothes and I’ll meet you in the lounge.”

The two boys had nodded, running off into the closest entrance to the compound, while Tony lugged the half-full bag of charcoal briquets back to the shed he’d found them. On the way into the compound, his phone rang.

><><><><>

He was sitting in the lounge at one of the tables when the boys joined him. They were both wearing jeans and t-shirts; Ned was wearing the Batman shirt Peter had gifted him, and Peter had on a Captain America shirt. The boys ran over, smiling, and Tony couldn’t help but smile, too.

“You look drier.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed, climbing into his chair, which was right next to Tony’s. “Warmer, too.”

“Good.” He looked at Ned. “I just got off the phone with Eric.”

“Is he coming to get Ned?” Peter asked, hoping the answer was no. “We haven’t seen the SHIELD agents, yet. Or the jet.”

“No.” Tony put his hands on the table. “Your school called me, as I was coming inside. They’re canceling school, tomorrow, because of the snow.”

“A snow day?” Peter asked, grinning. He liked school, of course, but snow days were special. “Wow.”

It was clear Tony wasn't finished – even though he smiled at his son.

“When I got off the phone with them, I called Eric, to see if Ned’s school had contacted him, too. They hadn’t.” He didn’t give Ned a chance to lose the hopeful expression. “So Eric called them to find out what they were doing.”

“Are they closing, too?” Ned asked.

“They are. So Eric called me and asked if I wanted him to come out and get you, still, and I said that I had no intention of having him drive in this weather and that we’d be willing to host you another night out here, if you were interested.”

Ned’s expression was blank, just for a minute, as he made sure he’d heard what he thought that he had. Then it lit up with happy excitement.

“ _Really_?”

“Really. If you _want_.”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely.”

“Wow,” Peter added. “That’s awesome. We get an extra day to hang out.”

The boy beamed.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Of course, Tony was glad to have the boy. He was an easy going kid, and Peter’s friend. His adopted son didn’t have a lot of friends, really and Ned was the closest to his own age – even if they counted Cooper Barton, who Peter didn’t see much of.

The boys chatted, excitedly, about what they would do that evening, and lunch was brought to them. It wasn't anything fancy, soup with noodles and chicken, and sandwiches. They ate, hungrily, though, and so did Tony. When they were finished eating, the boys carried the dishes back to the kitchen, while Tony called Pepper to let her know about Peter’s school day and let her know that they weren’t going to be back in the city on time, so he wasn't going to be at the tower the next day.

She mentioned that she’d almost expected it, and since Peter was back at the table by then, she asked to talk to him. It wasn't a long conversation, but the boy was smiling by the time the call ended, and they all got up from the table. They were heading for the little table in the corner, where Peter and Ned were going to decide what they wanted to do instead of going outside, again, when there was a commotion at the entrance to the lounge, and Ned gasped, excitedly, as Natasha, Steve, Nick and Sam walked in with a couple of strangers wearing nondescript dark suits, despite the casual dress of the others.

“That’s the SHIELD agents, isn’t it, Tony?” the older boy asked.

Stark nodded, smiling.

“Yeah. Want to meet them?”

Duh.

With Peter on one side of him, and Ned on the other, Tony walked over to intercept the small group. Natasha wasn't the only one to smile at the approaching boys, but Peter suddenly lost his smile and held back, hiding behind Tony’s leg, his arm hooked around it and his brown eyes uncertain as he looked up at the strangers.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Sam said, assuming the boy was being shy. It wasn't the first time they’d seen him do it, after all. “These guys are SHIELD agents. This is agent Sitwell, and this is Agent Rumlow.”

“Hi,” Ned said, stepping up, quickly, and offering them his hand. “I’m Ned.”

Both men smiled at the boy, easily, shaking hands and introducing themselves. They turned to Peter, though, who buried his face in Tony’s hip and refused to be introduced.

“He's shy,” Tony told them, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

He frowned when he felt the boy trembling, though.

“Yeah, kids can be weird that way,” Sitwell agreed, looking at the boy with interest that he wasn't bothering to hide. “This is the boy you adopted?”

“Yes.” Peter shivered, again, never looking up, although his hold on Tony’s leg tightened. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ll be right back.”

“Of course.”

Sam was engaged in conversation with Ned, who was telling him, Steve and Fury about the snowman that they’d built, but Natasha followed Tony and Peter out of the room.

“What’s going on, buddy?” Tony asked once they’d moved away from the area and he had managed to get Peter to loosen the hold on him. “Are you alright?”

“My stomach hurts,” Peter said, looking up at the two adults. “A _lot_.”

Natasha frowned, her hand coming to Peter’s forehead, even as she looked at Tony.

“You guys ate?”

“We just finished,” the billionaire confirmed, also reaching for Peter’s forehead. “It wasn't anything spicy, or anything that he hasn’t had a million times,” he added. “Soup and sandwiches.”

“Are you feeling sick?” Natasha asked.

“No. It just hurts.”

“We’ll take it easy, though,” Tony said, brushing his hand through Peter’s curls. “Maybe we’ll stay inside the rest of the day – just to make sure he isn’t catching a cold, or something.”

“You said we could watch the jet take off, though,” Peter reminded him, the ache in his stomach already fading a little.

He definitely didn’t want to miss that.

“We’re still going to,” Stark assured him. “But no more playing in the snow – at least, not today. There’s plenty to do, inside, after all. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“Sitwell and Rumlow are leaving, now,” Natasha said. “We’ll send them off, let Peter and Ned watch, and then I’d suggest the gym – or maybe Legos or hot Wheels.”

“We could play a game,” Peter suggested. “Sorry? Or Hungry Hippos.”

Tony smiled, relieved that Peter already looked like he was feeling better – although he’d keep a close eye on him the next day or two. Just to be certain he wasn't coming down with something.

“Sounds like fun.”

>><><><><><><>

“That little kid is worth a fortune…”

Sitwell frowned, looking around, even though he knew there was no one even close to them, just then.

“Yes.”

“Could you imagine what Stark would pay if someone were to kidnap him?”

“A fortune,” the other man agreed.

“Why are you less enthused than you should be?”

“Because young Peter might be worth more than you are thinking that he is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Phil Coulson is a friend of mine.”

“Yeah, I know that. So?”

“So he’s dropped a couple of comments that make me think the boy has other abilities that our… other employer… might find useful.”

“I heard he’s pretty smart.”

“Other abilities,” Sitwell repeated. “ _Extraordinary_ abilities.”

“The kid’s nine.”

“He’s _eight_ ,” came the correction.

“Then he can’t be that amazing,” the man said. “Coulson’s probably exaggerating. Whatever he told you.”

“He didn’t tell me anything,” Sitwell said. “No matter how much I asked – or how many drinks I bought him.”

“Maybe he was lying then, and you caught him.”

“Or he’s under orders not to say anything. Peter won’t be eight forever,” Sitwell pointed out. “If we delivered him to the right people, he could be raised to be incredibly useful.”

“You’ll never be able to get that kid from Stark,” Rumlow said, shaking his head. “Or from _Romanoff_ , for that matter. She’ll kill you before you made it to the door.”

“I don’t have to get him from either of them,” his friend told him with a smirk. “Not if I do it right.”

“Good luck.”

The man nodded, his expression clearly calculating.

“I don’t need luck.”


	104. 104

“So, what did you do with your snow day?”

Peter smiled at Pepper, who was sitting at Tony’s desk when he’d come in from school, and had pushed the plate of cookies to him after hugging him by way of greeting.

“We built a snow fort, and then had a snowball fight with all of the SHIELD agents and everyone else.”

She looked at Tony, who was also at his desk, and the billionaire shrugged.

“They were all there, and since the snow was thigh deep, they weren’t going anywhere, anytime soon. It was good.”

“Ned had fun?” Pepper asked.

Peter smiled.

“He did. I did, too. It was fun.”

“Sounds like it.”

“You were _invited_ ,” Tony reminded her, making her smile.

“Maybe next time.”

“What did you learn today?” Stark asked his son.

“We have that group project,” Peter said. “I’m teamed up with Allison, Andrew, and Alan.”

“How did you manage that?” Pepper asked, smiling.

She didn’t know any of the students that went to Peter’s school, and none of his classmates, but it couldn’t be a coincidence that their names were all so similar.

“My teacher asked who I wanted as partners, and I just started at the top of the list and named the first three.”

“You didn’t give it much thought…”

He shrugged.

“It was after school and Tony and Ned were waiting for us to go to the compound. I didn’t want to make them wait.”

“I’ve heard from Peter’s teacher already,” Tony told her. “And sent the names to SHIELD for vetting.”

“You’re vetting _high school students_?”

“I check everyone who gets close to Peter,” Tony pointed out. “Especially since these kids are going to have to have access to him to meet to discuss this project.”

“What _kind_ of project?” she asked. “Another volcano?”

Peter smiled.

“That was art class,” he reminded her. “This is for science. It’s going to be fun. We have to come up with a concept for a mars rover vehicle.”

“Then they have to build a miniature one,” Tony added.

Peter was right, as far as Tony was concerned. It was a fun project.

“And you’ll help?” Pepper guessed.

The billionaire shook his head.

“I’m not _allowed_ to help.”

Which was too bad – although completely understandable.

“Where are you meeting these students?” she asked, curiously. “You’re not going to let him go to a stranger’s house?”

“We’ll bring them here. I’ll set them up in one of the robotics labs. But I’m _not_ helping them,” he added, quickly.

“Right.”

Peter smiled, excited at the idea.

“It’s going to be fun,” he said, again.

“Sounds like it.”

He looked excited, anyway.

“Eat your snack,” Tony said, pushing the plate toward him. “Let’s get you to daycare.”

“Okay.”

><><><><>

The week was a good one.

Tony and Peter spent a lot of time together. They didn’t do anything extraordinary; Tony wanted Peter on a schedule when they were home during the school week, and that meant trying to keep things as regulated and ordinary as possible. They had breakfast together every morning, then parted ways when Peter would be picked up for school and Tony would leave for the tower. They spoke at lunch – it was becoming a regular thing for them to do so – and then they would spend time in Tony’s office when Peter returned from school.

Then Tony would walk him to daycare, return to pick him up when he was ready to go home, and the two would spend a quiet evening at home, just Tony, Peter, and JARVIS. They would eat dinner, work on Peter’s homework, play games or watch a movie and then it was bedtime. Tony would read to Peter, kiss him goodnight as he tucked him into his blankets, and then close the door.

Whether Peter stayed in bed, or not, varied, of course.

><><><><><

Thursday Peter wasn't alone when he came to the tower after school. With him were three of his classmates from his last period class. The three were awed by the fact that Tony Stark was the one that greeted them in the lobby, but he was at his most charming in order to relax them as much and as quickly as possible. He walked with them to the robotics lab that had been set aside to allow them the space and resources needed to work on their project and had then laid out a few ground rules before leaving them alone to get started.

Even though it took all the self control that he could muster, since he _really_ wanted to give them a starting point. He loved robotics, after all. He had to settle for watching – and listening – to the video feed from the room, instead.

“What are you _doing_?”

Tony about jumped out of his expensive clothes – _and his skin_ – when Pepper spoke up from behind him.

“Jesus, Pep…” he complained, clutching his chest. “Knock, first, will you?”

“It’s _my_ office…” she pointed out.

“Oh. Yes. Well, mine is being swept for bugs.” SHIELD would do that, occasionally, to make sure that Stark’s office remained secured. The billionaire had pointed out to Fury and Rogers that he had JARVIS to watch over that kind of thing, but since it was protocol, he didn’t complain too much – or too loudly. “I’m watching Peter and his classmates try to decide what they’re going to build.”

She looked over his shoulder at the display.

“Are they actually allowing him any input?”

“Yes.”

“That's surprising, considering how much younger he is than they are.”

“He’s been going to school there a long time,” Tony reminded her. “They know he’s intelligent.” He smirked. “Besides, they’re all probably still a bit shell-shocked from meeting me.”

“Try deodorant, next time.”

He rolled his eyes, amused.

“They’re debating wheels or a trac system for mobility.”

“Which is better?”

“For a Mars rover?” he watched as the students on the display pulled up their own display in the workroom. A display that showed the surface of the red planet. “Depends on where they want to land, and the terrain they’ll be traversing. I’m betting they go with trac, simply because that’s what most rovers have had, so far.”

“No air pumps on Mars,” she pointed out.

“Airless tires,” he reminded her. “But they can work pretty well, too.”

She shook her head.

“Are they really going to use the best design for a rover?”

“Probably not,” he conceded. “Unless they come up with something completely different that is mind-blowingly creative and efficient. It’s just a project to get them thinking – and to teach them to work in a team dynamic. Smart kids don’t always do that well.”

“Did you?”

“No. I was the worst.”

><><><><><>

“Well? How did it go?”

Peter smiled, gathering up his backpack and making sure that he had everything.

“It was good.”

“They seemed to be willing to listen to your ideas.”

“Yeah. They had some good ones, too.”

“So I heard.”

The little boy looked pleased – and excited.

“We need to meet, again, to finalize the design we want to use.”

“Tomorrow?”

“No. Monday.” JARVIS had saved the information they’d accumulated while they were researching past rovers in the robotics room and each of them had that information, now. They’d decided to each come up with an idea over the weekend and then they’d meet on Monday to decide what would work best for their project. “Can we meet here, again?”

Tony smiled, too, now.

“I’d prefer it,” he assured Peter. “Let them all know, tomorrow, so they can clear it with their folks, for Monday.”

“Okay.”

Tony reached for the boy’s backpack.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“Me, too. Let’s go home.”

As they walked to the elevator, and then buckled into the car, Peter told Tony all about the kids that he was partnered with. He didn’t know that his father already knew everything that there was to know about each of them – and their parents, just in case someone’s parents had hidden agendas that no one had known about. They’d all come back clean, though. Nothing had raised any red flags with Natasha or Steve. Content in the knowledge that Peter was safe with them, Tony could enjoy how happy Peter was, just then.

“Maria’s not picking you up, tomorrow,” Tony told Peter as they walked into the house. “It’s going to be Phil.”

“How come?”

Stark smiled.

“Because Maria’s been called away on a secret assignment.”

He smiled because Peter’s eyes lit up, excitedly.

“An Avenger assignment?”

“A SHIELD one,” he corrected. “I don’t think the Avengers are involved. If they are then no one told me, so I’m not going to have to go.”

“What’s she doing?” Peter asked. “Do you know?”

“They didn’t tell me.” He hadn’t asked, really. SHIELD wasn't his concern. He didn’t tell Peter that, though. “All I know is that something is going on someplace that she knows better than anyone else, so they asked for her, specifically.”

“Wow.” The boy climbed onto his stool to watch as Tony washed his hands to start their dinner. “When will she get back?”

“I’m not sure, buddy. This kind of came out of the blue.”

“Maybe she can tell me about it,” Peter said, hopefully. “When she gets back, I mean.”

“Maybe.”

Probably not, though, Tony was sure.


	105. 105

Coulson was right on time the next morning, and Peter was ready to go. He grinned up at the man as Peter walked him to the door to meet him.

“Hi, Phil.”

“Hey, Peter. How are you doing?”

“Good. What’s Maria doing?”

Coulson smirked, amused. Peter’s favorite thing was to try and wheedle information out of him and Hill, asking questions off the cuff to see if there would be a reply. The SHIELD agents were more than a match for an eight-year-old. Even an intelligent one like Peter.

“She’s doing _secret_ stuff,” he replied, nodding to Tony. An acknowledgement that he had the boy just fine and that Hill wasn't doing anything dangerous – at least as far as he knew. “She should be back next week.”

“Secret _SHIELD_ stuff?” Peter asked as Tony bundled him up into his coat.

“All SHIELD stuff is _secret_ ,” Coulson told him, making Tony smile, too. “I thought you knew that by now.”

Peter laughed.

“Yeah.”

“Have a good day,” Tony told the boy. “I’ll talk to you at lunch.”

Peter hugged him goodbye.

“Okay.”

“I’ll be with him all day,” the SHIELD agent told him.

“Thanks.”

><><><><><>

“Well?”

Maria hill’s image was a little staticky, a reminder that she was several thousand miles away. It didn’t hide the annoyed expression on her face, though.

_“I’m confused,”_ she admitted.

“About what?” Fury asked.

_“Rumlow’s report showed that the cartel was on the move.”_

“Correct. That is my understanding.”

_“No one’s here, Nick,”_ she said, shrugging. _“My guys on the ground, here, are saying everything’s been quiet for weeks.”_

“That doesn’t make any sense. Is their intel wrong?”

_“I’m following up on it, now,”_ she replied. _“I’ll know more in an hour, or so.”_

“Check back in when you have something,” Nick told her.

_“Roger.”_

The screen went dark, and Fury looked over at Romanoff, who was standing just off to the side of the video call.

“That’s odd,” she said, frowning. “Rumlow’s never been wrong, before.”

“No. He hasn’t,” he agreed. His dark eye was serious – as was his expression. “Do some follow up of your own. I want to verify his contacts on this one.”

“Yeah.”

She left the room and Steve Rogers frowned, too.

‘What are you thinking, Nick?” he asked.

“I’m thinking that I don’t like wild goose chases,” Fury told him.

“It could be a breakdown in communications.”

“It had better be,” was the reply. “Or I’m going to be very annoyed.”

><><><><><

_“How’s your day going?”_

Peter smiled.

“Good. How about you?”

_“I’m mapping out the specs for the new suit.”_

“Wow.”

_“Yeah.”_ Tony loved it when Peter looked so impressed, even by something so mundane. _“JARVIS will start the manufacturing sometime this weekend.”_

“Can I watch?”

_“There won’t be much to see,”_ Tony told him. _“But, sure. We’ll swing by and take a peek at things once it’s far enough along that the outline is discernable.”_

“Thanks.”

_“You’re welcome. Anything I need to know, Coulson?”_

The SHIELD agent shook his head, looking around the lunchroom before turning his attention to Peter’s phone’s display.

“Everything looks good. Easy day.”

Fridays were always relaxed since everyone was looking forward to the weekend. Even though traffic was a bitch, the usual honking horns and curses were more cheerful than Monday’s version.

_“We’ll see you guys around three thirty, then,”_ Tony said.

“Right.”

_“Bye, buddy.”_

“Bye, dad.”

The screen went dark and Peter grinned up at Coulson.

“Do you want my pudding cup?”

The agent smiled at the offer, but shook his head.

“Thanks, but you eat it,” he replied, pulling out his own lunch. “I have one, too.”

“Okay.”

Peter turned his attention to his lunch, but he was looking forward to his last class, and talking to the others about Monday after school. He wondered if Tony had any plans for the weekend for them. He hadn’t mentioned anything, but Peter was good with staying at home, if that was what Tony wanted to do. Or maybe seeing of Ned could come over.

That would be pretty fun.

><><><><><>

Phil Coulson was leaning against the wall near the door to Peter’s last class of the day. He was watching the foot traffic through the hallway, not really too concerned, but always aware that something could happen at any moment, and trying to make sure he was ready for it. There were only about ten minutes left before the bell rang, and he would be able to get the boy in the car, and then he’d probably hear all about the Mars rover assignment on the way to the tower (it was all he’d heard about at _lunch_ , too). He didn’t mind; Coulson thought Peter was a cute kid, and it was definitely more enjoyable to hang out on detail with him than it was to interact with some of the sleazy people that he normally had to deal with.

The SHIELD agent looked at his watch, and then peeked through the small glass window of the classroom, watching as Peter spoke with a couple of the students in the room. Before he could do more than make sure that the boy was still in the right place, and wasn't being hassled, a movement in his peripheral vision made him turn his head, and he frowned when he saw Sitwell and Rumlow walking toward him, both men looking around, uncertainly, and Rumlow actually walking with his hand on his concealed sidearm.

“What’s up?” he asked when they drew close enough to speak to without shouting.

Sitwell frowned, looking around, again, and then through the small window.

“We have a potential security threat.”

“What?”

“Come with me.”

Coulson frowned.

“No. I’m Mini Me’s primary, today.”

Which meant he didn’t leave unless he was properly relieved. Sitwell knew the drill.

“Rumlow will watch him. We’re only going as far as the bathroom.”

“What? Why?”

Sitwell looked around, again.

“I can’t tell you out here, Phil. There are too many people. It’s important.”

No one was in the hallway, though.

“Let me call Fury.”

“He’s the one that sent us out here,” Rumlow said, scowling. “Why else would we be here?”

Coulson looked at his watch.

“Three minutes,” he said. “Then I’ll take Peter to the tower and-“

“You’re wasting that three minutes,” his friend interrupted. “Let’s go.”

The other SHIELD agent took hold of his arm, and Rumlow walked over to position himself in the same place that Coulson had been standing, his expression serious as he took over for Coulson. Phil nodded and allowed himself to be led to the boy’s bathroom, which was only a couple of doors down, but was a lot more private than the hallway – or the classrooms.

“What’s going on?” Coulson asked, walking through the door and automatically looking around for anyone who might be listening in on their conversation. “What’s the threat?”

Sitwell was looking around, too. He noted that there wasn't anyone else in the bathroom, and as the door closed he gave his friend an odd look.

“Me.”

Despite the fact that he was a trained SHIELD agent, and was incredibly experienced (otherwise he’d never have been chosen to guard Peter) Coulson wasn't prepared for an attack by someone that he considered his friend. He had only enough time to register what he was hearing, and process it before Sitwell’s hand was moving, and the blow landed. He was unconscious before he hit the floor, and the other SHIELD agent shook his head, looking down at the man on the floor with a mixture of contempt and amusement.

“Should have seen that one coming, Phil,” he said, putting the brass knuckles back into his jacket pocket.


	106. 106

He pulled a zip tie from the same pocket and tied Coulson’s hands together, ignoring the blood from the headwound. He’d live, or not, but that was the price one paid for choosing the wrong team, now, wasn't it? With a final sneer, he stood up, again, and left the bathroom, stopping long enough to jam the door shut and then hang an out of order sign on the knob.

Rumlow watched as he walked over.

“Well?”

“Problem solved.”

The bell rang somewhere overhead, and the hallways were suddenly filled with students. Both men waited as the door to the classroom Peter was in opened, and kids from that room rushed out as well, all talking about one thing or another, and none paying any attention to the SHIELD agents.

They were used to seeing security by Peter’s classes by then.

><><><><>><<

Peter was one of the last ones out of the classroom.

He held back to talk to the others on his research team about going to the tower on Monday; when they would meet and what time they should tell their parents to come get them when they were finished. He and Tony had already discussed all that, so it wasn't a long conversation with the other kids and Peter was soon putting his things in his backpack, talking amicably to his teacher as the rest of the students left the room.

He looked over at the door, somewhat surprised that Phil wasn't standing there, waiting for him. The boy wasn't concerned, though, since he might be just to the side, wanting to avoid the last of the kids leaving the room.

“Big plans this weekend?” his teacher asked, also gathering his things, but then sitting at his desk.

He had papers to grade, after all.

Peter smiled, and shrugged.

“I’m not sure. Might just stay at home.”

“With Tony Stark, I imagine _that’s_ pretty exciting, too.”

The boy nodded, feeling a happiness rising in him that he couldn’t help. It was exciting. And amazing, really. He never got tired of the idea of going home with Tony and being able to call him dad.

“It _is_ ,” he agreed.

“Your agent’s here?”

“Outside,” Peter confirmed.

“I’ll see you Monday.”

The boy was young, but he knew a dismissal when he heard one. He wasn't hurt, though. He knew that his teacher had a lot to do, and he probably wanted to get home and start _his_ weekend, too.

“See you.”

Peter slung his backpack to his shoulder and headed for the door, still smiling, but he suddenly felt an ache in his stomach just as he walked out the door, and saw that it wasn't Phil waiting for him, but two others.

Sitwell smiled, but it didn’t light up his eyes the way a real smile normally would, the boy noticed right away.

“Hey, Peter. Are you set?”

“Where’s Phil?”

“You’re supposed to say _hello_ ,” Rumlow said, scowling.

“It’s fine,” Sitwell replied, quickly, giving his partner a reproving look. “Agent Coulson had to go. He left us in charge of your detail – to get you back to the tower.”

“He didn’t say anything to me,” Peter said, uncertainly. His stomach was aching something fierce, but even more; something was nagging at him. Screaming, really, and telling him that there was something wrong. “He said that they would tell me if there was going to be any change in plans.”

“It came up pretty quick,” Sitwell said. “He didn’t want to interrupt your class.”

“Let’s go,” Rumlow said, impatiently. “Stark’s waiting for you.”

“He is?”

“He always does, right?”

“Yeah.” Peter hesitated, though. “I should call him…”

“No need to,” came the reply. “He’s in a meeting, right now, and you don’t want to interrupt him, right?”

“No.”

“He’d be pretty pissed if you did that, I bet,” Rumlow added. “Might decide to ground you, or something.”

“Tony wouldn’t do that.”

That much Peter was sure of.

“Come on,” Sitwell said – and now _he_ sounded impatient, too. “Let’s go.”

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“It can wait.”

“No. It’s right there,” Peter added, pointing at the door just down the hall. He didn’t really need to go, but he was so sure that something was wrong that he wanted to get away from the two agents – just to make a call and make sure everything was okay. He didn’t think that Tony would really mind; he might be glad that Peter was being so careful. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“It’s out of order,” Rumlow said, grabbing for Peter’s arm. “Come on, kid, we have other things to do, today.”

_“Hey!”_

Peter pulled back, and yelped when he felt the man’s grip tighten on his arm in a crushing hold – even through the bulk of his coat.

“Relax, Peter,” Sitwell told him, also reaching for him, but being a lot more careful. “We’re just going to the tower, it’s okay.”

“No. Let me go!”

The boy tried to jerk his arm away, and almost freed himself, much to the surprise of the two men who were holding him. They responded by picking him off the ground and taking away his ability to get any leverage, and ended up carrying him down the hall between them.

“Let me _go_ ,” Peter said, writhing on their grips, now, and scared, because he was sure something was wrong. No one had treated him like this and he knew Tony wouldn’t approve. “Let me go!”

His yells echoed in the empty hall, but a teacher poked her head out of her room and looked at the two men, oddly. Sitwell shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

“Kids… always throwing tantrums, right?”

The teacher didn’t look convinced, but they didn’t give her a chance to pursue the conversation, turning the corner, immediately.

“Let me go!” Peter yelled, again, his voice going higher. “I’m going to tell.”

“Do your worst,” Rumlow replied, squeezing even righter on Peter’s upper arm and making the boy screech with pain as the bones and muscles were punished. “Shut up, or we’ll shoot the next person we see.”

Peter was shocked at the threat – and from the look on Sitwell face, so was he.

“Let go of me…” the boy repeated, squirming but not screaming – although his eyes were bright from tears.

His arm hurt. A lot.

“In a minute,” Sitwell told him. “We’re going to take you to-“

“Shut up,” Rumlow snapped. “He doesn’t need to know where-“

Peter had heard enough. They were getting close to the door and he instinctively knew if they got him out of the school, he wasn't going to be safe. He jerked his arm as hard as he could, even though the grip that the man had was painful.

“Let me _go_!”

It almost worked. The grip loosened, because Rumlow was shocked at just how strong Peter was – even with his feet off the ground like they were. The agent scowled, and his free hand came up and he slapped Peter – hard.

“Shut up, you little bastard, or I’ll-“

The gunshot was shockingly loud in the hallway, and Peter was almost dragged out of Sitwell’s grasp when Rumlow was tossed backward by the impact. The painful grip released Peter and the man crumbled to the ground, the boy and the other agent shocked into silence as they watched blood pooling under his head – although the mark on his forehead was almost so small that it seemed inconsequential.

A shadow blocked the light from the school’s front door, drawing the attention of both Peter and Sitwell, and the SHIELD agent gasped, softly, even as his grip on Peter shifted, until one arm was around Peter’s body, holding him against him in the front, while the other hand pulled his sidearm.

Natasha Romanoff watched him, her pistol in her hand, but the weapon moving away so it wasn't pointed at Peter, now, but still toward Sitwell. Her eyes were cold, and her expression was as deadly as the gun in her hand.

Amazingly – or maybe not – Peter saw smoke curling from the barrel of the gun she was holding.

“Let him go…”

“That isn’t going to happen, Nat.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“You aren’t walking out of here with him.”

“I _have_ to…” His grip tightened on Peter, who struggled against the hold, his frightened eyes watching Romanoff as she stood between them and the door. “They want him.”

She didn’t ask who, and he saw something in her expression that made him bring his gun forward, to train it on her rather than threatening to aim it at Peter as he’d been doing. Peter saw the gun moving toward her and screamed, afraid that she was going to get hurt, and even as Sitwell started to yell at him to shut up, the man yelped, instead, when the boy bit his arm.

Hard.

He automatically dropped Peter before he could realize what he was doing, but he was skilled enough that his gun didn’t leave its target. As Peter fell to the floor, however, it wasn't Natasha Romanoff who acted. The yelp ended with a horrible gargling sound as an arrowhead suddenly emerged from the front of his throat, and the gun clattered to the floor as Sitwell did, as well.

“Natasha!”

Peter didn’t even look at the man who had tried to take him. He only had eyes for her. Luckily. She swept him into her embrace with the hand that wasn't holding her gun, even as a sudden wave of men and women in SHIELD uniforms rushed through the front door around them.

“Are you alright?” she asked, passing her gun to one of the others since she needed both hands to hold Peter, who was trembling, violently, and clinging to her, crying. “Did they hurt you?”

“They wouldn’t let me go.”

His voice was muffled by her shirt, and she looked at Clint, who walked over, stepping over the body of Sitwell.

“Nice shot.”

He nodded, his bow still in his hand, but the other reaching out to run his fingers through Peter’s hair.

“Had to wait for Peter to get in the clear, first. Nicely done, little man.”


	107. 107

Their people started getting the scene under control. Luckily, there weren’t many civilians left in the school, and the SHIELD agents had cleared them out from behind while Natasha and a small group had gone to the front door to draw attention that direction. And to keep them from leaving with Peter, of course.

She turned her attention back to the little boy, but decided that a hallway with the two dead bodies wasn't the ideal place for Peter to be. Instead, the assassin carried him out into the bright sunshine, even though it was cold, and Clint followed. Romanoff tried to sit him on the hood of one of the dark SUVs so they could check him out, but Peter wouldn’t let go of her – although the sound of crying wasn't as loud, now. He refused to let go.

“Peter…” she tried to pull back a little, but the boy was strong – and still scared enough that he needed the touch. “Hey… are you hurt?”

“My arm hurts,” came the muffled reply. “He grabbed me.”

“He won’t do it, again,” Clint assured him, calmly. “Where’s _Coulson_?”

“They said he got called away. _And_ they wouldn’t let me call Tony.”

Peter finally turned his face from the front of Natasha’s uniform to look at Clint, and then up at her. His eyes were wide and scared – and his cheeks and eyelashes were wet with tears. There was also a mark where Rumlow had slapped him, and it made Natasha scowl when she saw it.

“We’re calling him, right now,” she said, running her fingers through his hair, trying to look less annoyed, so he wouldn’t see it. “Nick’s taking care of it.”

“Let’s get you looked at,” Clint added, taking advantage of the slight amount of separation, now, between the little boy and Natasha. “We want to be able to tell him you’re okay when he comes.”

Peter sniffed, wiping his nose with his hand, which smeared tears and snot across his cheek, as well.

“He’s coming?”

“I guarantee it,” Natasha said.

They didn’t want to take Peter back into the school, so Natasha carried him over to the door of the large SUV. The heater was on and the engine was still running, and she opened up the back. Convincing him to let her go completely, though, so she could have their medic take a look at him was a bit more difficult. He’d taken a fright and still wasn't willing to release her, just yet.

She understood completely, but Romanoff wanted to have him looked at before Tony arrived, so they could reassure him. She pressed several kisses against Peter’s temple as she hugged him, carefully – just in case – but then she pulled back a little so he _had_ to look at her.

“I want Ray to take a look at you,” she said, nodding her head to the same SHIELD medic that had taken care of Peter’s hand in the park. “We want to make sure you’re not hurt. Okay?”

He didn’t look like it was okay at all, but he nodded, and let the medic help him out of his coat.

“Ouch…”

“Yeah, _that’s_ going to bruise…” the medic said, looking at Peter’s arm where Rumlow had been so rough. “How does it feel?”

Peter sniffed, wiping his nose, again.

“It hurts.”

“It isn’t broken, is it?” Natasha asked, just as Clint walked back over to them.

“Doesn’t look like it,” they were assured.

“We found Coulson…” Clint said.

“Where?”

“In the bathroom. He took a blow to the head, but he’s coming around.”

The medic looked up from Peter’s arm.

“They’re bringing him out here?”

“Yeah. He’ll be mobile in a minute. They’re waking him up.”

All of them were trained for first aid. Ray was the official medic with much more training, and he could stay with Peter for now.

“Who hit your face?” he asked Peter, taking a cloth and wiping Peter’s face, carefully. “Your cheek is swelling.”

“Rumlow,” Natasha replied, scowling when Peter’s eyes filled with tears, again. “He slapped him.” Her expression softened when she reached out to touch his chin, but she was careful not to brush her fingers against that swollen cheek. “He won’t do it, again, honey, you can bet on that.”

Before Peter could respond, the sound of thrusters from somewhere above the SUV drowned out the ability to have any conversation, and they all heard a metal thump from somewhere near the front of the SUV. A moment later, Tony was rounding the back, no doubt guided by his AI to Peter’s location. His face fearful and worried, he stopped at the open hatch, and Clint moved to the side to give him room.

“Peter?”

“He’s alright,” the medic said, breaking open a chemical icepack. “I’m going to want to have his arm x-rayed, though.”

“His _arm_?” Tony gaze went from the boy’s face down to the arm in question and his expression tightened as he saw the marks on it. He looked at the medic. “Can I pick him up?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

Stark reached for the boy and Peter sobbed when he was engulfed in Tony’s arms, the man tucking his head under his chin as he held him close.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, softly. “Did they hurt you?”

“They _grabbed_ me,” Peter told him, his little face buried against the man’s expensive shirt. “Natasha saved me.”

Stark looked over at her – and at Clint.

“What happened?”

“What did Fury tell you?”

“Someone made a play on Peter and he was at the school – but he was fine.”

“Someone made a play on him,” she confirmed. “It was a bit more complicated than that, though. We definitely want to discuss what happened – and not right here.”

“Is he safe?” Tony asked, clearly worried. “Do we get more agents? A private security force?”

He’d get the entire NYPD if he needed to.

“It’s safe,” Romanoff assured him. “We know who it was, and we know who to go after to make sure they don’t try it, again.”

Tony settled himself in the place Peter had been sitting, holding his son closely, and soothing him – as well as allowing his own heart to stop pounding.

He’d been in a meeting with several executives – as well as Pepper – when Nick’s call had pulled him away. The SHIELD director had explained that there had been a try on Peter at his school, and had been quick to reassure that the boy was fine, and they hadn’t even made it out the door with him. Stark had stopped long enough to tell Pepper he was leaving before he was in the Ironman suit and rocketing toward Peter’s school.

Still reassuring himself, he looked up Natasha.

“Was it a kidnapping?” he asked. “For ransom? Or is it related to me being Ironman?”

“Neither,” she told him, succinctly. “Peter was the target, not you. We’ll explain it in further detail, later.”

This wasn't the place for that conversation – and she wanted to be certain before she read Tony in on what they knew. Or suspected. Besides, Stark had other things to keep his attention, just then, since Peter was clearly not ready to allow him to let him go.

The medic was still hovering close at hand, and Clint disappeared, but Romanoff stayed close by the SUV, even as reports started coming in and more officials showed up – including the news.

“You have a choice,” the medic said to Tony, while the SUV and a solid line of police and SHIELD agents kept the media away. “We can go to a hospital, or we can go to the compound.”

“We’re just doing X-rays?” Tony asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you think it’s broken?” He brushed his hand along Peter’s head. “I don’t want to delay in care for him…”

But he was sure the hospital would be a zoo, and there would be better control over who was coming in and out of the compound. Not to mention, he could find out what was going on, faster, that way.

“It’s precautionary. I think it’s just bruised.”

The billionaire looked down at Peter, who was slumped against him, still shivering – although Tony was warming him as was the heater in the SUV.

“Peter? Do you want to go to the compound? Or do you want to stay home?”

The boy simply shrugged and buried his face deeper into Tony’s armpit. He didn’t care; he just wanted to be held.

Tony looked at the medic.

“What do you think?”

“We have everything we need at the compound.”

“Including security,” Natasha added.

“Yeah.” That was what sold Tony on the idea. He nodded. “Let’s go to the compound.”

“I’m going to go check Coulson,” the medic told them. “We’ll take whatever rig you want.”

“This one’s fine.” He looked at Natasha. “Will you have someone get my suit?”

She smiled, despite the gravity of the situation.

“Can I wear it?”

That made Tony smile, as well, and he appreciated the attempt.

“No. You’ll stink it up with your womanly perfume and such.”

She smiled, and rested her hand on his head for a moment, maybe to get an idea of how upset he was.

“Fine. Next time, then.”

Tony shrugged, which was an accomplishment when holding Peter like he was.

“We’ll see.” He looked down at his son and back up at her. “Thank you.”

He wasn't thanking her for getting his suit, and she knew it.

“You’re welcome.”


	108. 108

Peter didn’t want to leave Tony’s embrace when it came time to put him in the back seat of the SUV.

It took plenty of coaxing, and the promise that he would be right there beside him – which he’d planned to be anyway.

“Let me look at your face, buddy,” he murmured to the boy, trying to get him to loosen his grip a little. “I want to see your cheek.”

“It’s okay,” Peter told him, but he did pull back and look up at him, and Tony hugged him for a moment, before running a careful finger along the swollen cheek.

“You’re so amazing,” Stark told the little boy. “I’ve said that before, right?”

That made Peter smile. The first smile since he’d left his last classroom.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

The medic handed Tony the icepack, wrapped in a soft towel to keep it from being uncomfortable.

“We’re going to hold this against your cheek, okay?” he said. “It’ll make it hurt less.”

“Okay.”

Tony shifted Peter, putting him into the middle of the back seat and buckling him in before the little boy could change his mind and demand to be held, instead. Then he moved to sit beside him, and Natasha joined them, sitting on the other side so they had Peter between them. The medic handed Romanoff a blanket, mentioning that he didn’t want Peter cold, and it would help keep him from going into shock, and Tony draped it over Peter, who immediately cuddled against him as well as he could. He needed to be touched, and comforted, but that was fine, really, because _Tony_ needed that, too.

“Did you talk to your classmates about coming to the tower on Monday?” he asked, gently, as the SUV pulled out of the parking area and onto the street.

Peter looked up at him, the icepack being held against his cheek and the injured arm tucked carefully between him and Tony.

“Yes. They’re excited. We already agreed on the design we’re going to build.”

“You did?”

He nodded.

“Yeah. The wheels are going to work better for our location, so we’re going with wheels, and maybe a design that will flip it back over if it gets knocked to the side.”

“That’s a good idea.”

He was glad the boy was talking and wanted to keep him talking as much as he could. To help get him over the worst of the fright. Natasha clearly had the same idea. She frowned, looking confused.

“What are you two talking about?”

“My Mars rover group project,” Peter replied, looking up at her around the icepack on his face.

“Your what?”

Tony smiled, sliding his arm behind Peter as well as he could, wanting to support him.

“The problem with acting like you know everything, Romanoff,” he said with a slight smile. “Everyone thinks you know everything going on.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, allowing the comment, since it made Peter smile, too.

“Are you going to tell me? Or do I bribe Peter with cookies and chocolate milk?”

“Tell her about it,” Tony told the boy.

“It’s long.”

“It’s a long drive to the compound.”

Good point. Peter nodded.

“Okay.”

Romanoff didn’t roll her eyes, again, but she did toss Stark a look that plainly said he owed her one. His expression was almost cheerful in reply, and he used his free hand to tuck the blanket around Peter a little better as the boy launched into a full on explanation of the project that they were working on in his last period class.

><><><><>

“You got him?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t slip.”

“I’m good.”

Peter had eventually fallen asleep on the drive to the compound. Hardly the first time, so Tony and Natasha were neither worried about it. When they pulled up – and for the first time Tony realized that they’d been part of a fairly large convoy of black vehicles as they’d driven north – the medic, Stark and Natasha had conferred and had decided that they wouldn’t wake Peter. Tony could carry him to the medlab for the tests that the medic wanted the doctors to run, and then if he was still asleep, they could just put him to bed.

The boy didn’t rouse when Tony carefully pulled him from the back of the SUV, blanket and all, and it was one of the surgeons that had initially diagnosed his cold that met them at the door. He didn’t need to be told what had happened; the medic had called ahead, and both Peter and Coulson – who had been transported to the compound in a separate car, under the watchful eye of a few others – were both going to be subjected to a number of tests.

Tony hovered, protectively, while he watched the doctor position his son for x-rays of his upper arm, and then carefully run his fingers along the cheek, pronouncing it swollen but undamaged, despite the bruise that was forming. Fury arrived as they were finishing up, and the SHIELD director walked over to study Peter, and then Coulson, who was sitting up holding an icepack, as well, and giving another run through of what had happened to him at the school.

“How did you know it was a setup?” Tony asked, realizing that there was no way Romanoff should have made it there in time to stop the two renegades from making off with Peter.

A realization that made him more grateful than ever.

“Hill was suspicious about being called away, and once we knew that it wasn't real, it raised several red flags. Since Peter is her primary concern, right now, it was easy enough to assume that he was the reason for the red herring. I’m a fairly suspicious man, anyway,” he pointed out – unnecessarily. “So when I brought up the issue with Romanoff, it didn’t take us long to decide it wouldn’t hurt to double-check things.”

“Clint and I were in the city,” Natasha said, softly, in deference to the fact that Peter was still asleep. “So I headed that direction – and called for more people when I couldn’t get through to Coulson.”

The SHIELD agent shook his head.

“I can’t believe Jenson was the mole…”

Tony frowned, looking at Fury.

“You knew something was up?”

“Not with _Peter_ ,” Nick corrected. “We knew we had someone in the organization who was passing information to Hydra. At least one person, if not more. We just didn’t know who they were.”

“Or that they were so far up in the chain of command,” Romanoff said.

“They must have really wanted him, if they were willing to expose two agents to get him.”

Now Tony looked worried, again. He didn’t have to ask who Hydra was.

“What’s to stop them from trying again, with other moles?”

“Me,” Natasha replied, her expression as dangerous as Stark could ever remember seeing it. “We have two of them, and they’re dead. No warning, and no chance to do any housekeeping. I’m going to go through their files and look for any indications of any others involved with SHIELD, and once I’ve cleared house, here, we’re going to move on to the bigger fish and take out the entire organization.”

“You’re talking about HYDRA?” Tony asked, just to be clear.

“Yeah,” Nick answered, first. “They’ve exposed themselves – or Sitwell exposed them without telling them what he was doing. Either way, it’s exactly what we needed. Not that I’m glad they made a move on Peter, of course, but it’s given us an opportunity that I’m not going to waste. By the time Natasha and her team are finished, HYDRA is going to wish they’d never heard of Peter Stark.”

“I volunteer for that detail,” Coulson said.

“You’re _Peter’s_ detail,” Tony reminded him – even though he didn’t have any say in that, really. SHIELD was Nick’s charge, not his own. “He needs you.”

The agent looked surprised and chagrined.

“I failed him.”

“You were tricked by a deep operative who also happened to be a friend,” Romanoff pointed out. “It could happen to anyone.”

“It wouldn’t have happened to you.”

None of them argued that, but Tony shrugged.

“Peter likes you, and he’s comfortable with you. I don’t see it as a fail, and unless Nick says otherwise, we definitely want to keep you.”

The SHIELD agent didn’t get a chance to reply, because the doctor was returning with a yellow envelope that held Peter’s x-rays. Everyone stopped and watched as he put two of them up into the lighted wall mount, and Tony wasn't the only one to walk over to look.

“What did you find?” he asked, examining them. One was Peter’s head, and the other was the injured arm. Neither looked terrible, but Tony was aware that he wasn't a doctor. “Anything broken?”

“No.” The surgeon looked over at the little boy, but Peter was asleep. “There’s some bruising on the arm, as you already know. It might be a bit sore for a few days – a week at the most. His facial structure is sound, too. Nothing broken. Just a bruise.”

“That’s a relief. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Do we keep him in here?” Fury asked.

The surgeon shook his head.

“No. Put him to bed.”

Tony frowned.

“He hasn’t had dinner, yet.”

“He isn’t going to starve, and he’ll feel better once he’s had some rest. Feed him a big breakfast, tomorrow. Or a late night snack if he wakes up before that.”

“I can do that.” Tony looked at the others. “Does he go to school Monday?”

Fury nodded.

“Hill is already on her way back. The school was locked down while we made our sweep and cleared the garbage, but they don’t know what happened, and why – and we’re not telling them any more than they need to know. As far as they’re concerned, it wasn't anything to do with Peter, or you.”

“The press was there,” Stark pointed out.

“And they’re still there,” Clint said. “But they don’t know anything, either. They don’t even know anyone died, since we took the bodies out through a side door and directly into a van.”

“What’s the story going to be?”

“A couple of terrorists were chased into the school, and were dealt with,” Fury answered. “Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“Which is the truth,” Natasha pointed out.

“You won’t get Peter to stay home on Monday,” Coulson added, lowering the icepack he was holding to his temple. “He’s too excited about his Mars rover project.”

Tony frowned.

“That’s true, isn’t it?”

“It’s all he talked about, today,” Phil confirmed.

“Huh. Well… I’ll ask him what he thinks about it, tomorrow. If he’s freaked out, I’ll keep him home.”

“Better to get him right back into the swing of things,” Fury said. “That way he doesn’t have time to let it eat at him, or anything.”

“He’s right,” the surgeon agreed. “Keep things as normal as possible.”

Tony nodded, and they watched as he carefully gathered the sleeping child into his arms.

“If anyone needs us, we’ll be in my rooms.”

“Why yours?” Clint asked, curiously.

“His AI is in his room,” Romanoff answered.

“Correct.”

Tony left with his son, and the surgeon walked out, as well – after reminding Coulson to take it easy over the weekend. Clint turned to Natasha.

“Are we leaving, then?”

She shook her head.

“Not yet. I’m going to wait and chat with Peter before we go – just in case either Sitwell or Rumlow said anything when they were alone with him.”

“And because you don’t want to leave without saying goodbye,” Coulson added.

“That, too.”


	109. 109

The corridors of the compound were silent as Tony carried Peter through them. He had a little trouble getting his door open while keeping Peter from dropping, but he managed it, and used his foot to close it, behind him.

_“Welcome back, sir.”_

“Thanks, JARVIS. Anything I need to know?”

_“SHIELD is conducting broad searches into the whereabouts of all known HYDRA agents, and have already begun searches through the residences of Rumlow and Sitwell. They have also begun searching through data obtained in those searches.”_

“You’ve already hacked all their systems?” Tony asked as he set Peter on the bed, kissing the boy’s temple when he opened his eyes at the change of position.

_“Correct. Both men have extensive files that are security encrypted. Beyond the normal protocols that SHIELD uses.”_

“You can get into them?”

_“I’m already working on it.”_

“Where are we?” Peter asked, sleepily, looking up at Tony.

“Shh, buddy. We’re at the compound. I’m putting you to bed.”

“It’s night-time?”

“Yeah.” Tony pulled Peter’s shirt off, easing it over the sore arm. “How do you feel?”

“Tired. Sore. Am I okay?”

“You’re _amazing_ ,” Tony assured him, taking the boy’s shoes and socks off. “Let’s get you under the covers.”

“Okay.” Peter didn’t argue when Tony pulled the blankets back and then situated him. “You’re staying?”

“Definitely.” He leaned over his son and pressed a kiss against the cheek that wasn't bruised. “I need to go change, but JARVIS is right here, with us, and will keep you company until I get back.”

“Alright.”

Tony tucked the blankets around him, and smiled down at the boy.

“I love you.”

That made Peter smile, of course.

“I love you, too.”

By the time he changed into something more comfortable than the suit that he’d been wearing and returned to the bed, Peter was asleep, again. Tony settled beside him, not at all surprised, and pulled out his phone.

Pepper answer, immediately, as if she’d been waiting for the call – which she _had_ been, of course.

_“How is he?”_

“Asleep.”

_“Is he hurt?”_

“Minor injuries.”

“Thank God.”

“And Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton,” Tony added.

_“So what happened?”_

“I can’t tell you over the phone, Pep.”

His line was always secured, but she didn’t let him integrate JARVIS into her communications, so he didn’t know for certain that her side was free of listeners.

_“Are you at the compound?”_

“We are.”

_“For the weekend?”_

“I think so. It’ll depend on how Peter feels – and how I feel about letting out from under the watchful eye of the security system, here.”

She was quiet for a moment.

_“Let me know when you know,”_ Pepper told him. _“I want to check on him.”_

Her tone made it clear that she was checking on him, too, and he appreciated it.

“I will.”

_“Need anything?”_

“Not tonight,” he replied. “Thank you. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Good night.”

The call ended and Tony set the phone aside, glancing at the time as he did. It was still relatively early, and he was restless with nervous energy, but he forced himself to hold still, in deference to the little boy sleeping beside him. As if in response to that, Peter mumbled something in his sleep and rolled toward Stark, pressing his face into Tony’s side, his arm coming over his stomach to cuddle even closer. Tony felt a wave of love wash over him at the action, and he brushed his fingers through Peter’s fine curls, tears burning his eyes at the thought of someone attempting to take the boy from him.

The worry that he’d been feeling turned into relief, and then anger, but all of it was shelved – for the moment – as he spent time with his son.

“JARVIS? Make sure you route anything that will help Romanoff and Nick discover the people behind this over to SHIELD’s database.”

_“Already doing it, sir.”_

“Thanks.”

><><><><><>

When Peter woke, he was immediately aware of the ache in his arm, and that he wasn't alone in his bed. When he opened his eyes, he realized that he wasn't in his own bed, either. He was in Tony’s – and Tony was lounging beside him, looking at his tablet.

At least he _was_ , until Peter moved beside him. Then he put the tablet aside and ran his hand along his son’s forehead, pushing his hair back.

“Good morning.”

Peter smiled; an automatic reaction to the love in Tony’s expression.

“Good morning.”

“How do you feel?”

“My arm hurts.”

“And your face?”

The boy’s smile widened.

“If I say no are you going to say it’s _killing_ you?”

“What?” Tony frowned, but then _he_ smiled, too, when he figured out what he meant. It was an old joke, so he was surprised Peter knew it. “Well… _maybe_. Did your aunt used to do that?”

“Sometimes,” he confirmed. “But she never meant it.”

Tony could tell just by the happy expression that had made Peter’s eyes light up that it was the case.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Tony brushed his fingertips against Peter’s cheek, feeling the swelling and seeing the bruise, but noticing that the touch didn’t seem to hurt. “You slept through dinner, last night. Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

Which made the billionaire nod, pleased. It was one less thing to worry about, then, since the surgeon had mentioned loss of appetite as an indication he wasn't feeling well. He pushed those curls from Peter’s forehead, again, with a tender motion that he knew would shock many people who didn’t know him.

“Then why don’t you go take a bath, and then we’ll go have breakfast.”

“A _bath_?” Peter’s brow furrowed – which Tony had long since decided was adorable “I’m not dirty.”

Stark snorted.

“You’re a little boy; I _guarantee_ you’re dirty.”

The actual idea was that a bath would be soothing. He had been told to have him take one if he had trouble falling asleep the night, before, but that hadn’t proven to be an issue.

Peter didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue, either.

“Okay. What are we going to do today?”

“We’ll wait and see,” came the reply. “I know that the others want to talk to you about what happened, yesterday – and I think Pepper may show up on our doorstep.”

His eyes lit up.

“She is?”

“Yep. Wants to check on you, too. Another reason to have a bath, right? Women don’t like their men stinky.”

“ _You_ wear perfume.”

“I wear _cologne_ ,” Tony corrected with another amused snort. “And that’s a different kind of stink. You’ll see.” He pulled the blankets back. “Go take a bath, buddy. And don’t hurry through it, alright? We have all weekend.”

“Alright…”

Still looking just a little uncertain – or maybe rebellious and Tony just didn’t know it well enough to recognize it – Peter rolled out of the bed, wincing when he put his weight onto the injured arm, but not making any indication that it was hurting so badly that it needed to be looked at, immediately. The surgeon had already promised Tony that he’d check Peter that morning, so that would be one of their first stops after breakfast.

He smiled, softly, as he watched the boy leave his quarters and go to his own room. Tony’s bathtub was bigger, but the avengers had set Peter’s up with bubble and toys to play with while in the tub, and that was much better than size considerations. When the door closed, Tony got up, too. He needed a shower.


	110. 110

Peter spent a long time in the tub. He made bubbles – he loved playing with bubbles in the bathtub. If he concentrated, sometimes, he could remember taking them when he was much younger – before his parents had died. He could sometimes remember his mother smiling at him and playing with a rubber duck.

He had a rubber duck, _now_ , too. There were two; one was colored like Captain America and the other was green and had muscles like the Incredible Hulk. There was also a plethora of bath toys to occupy him while he soaked, but Peter didn’t play with them as he soaked in the tub, that morning.

The thing at school had been scary, but it had been kind of exciting, too. Like the thing with the tree branch with him and Pepper in the park. This had been _scarier_ , of course – he’d actually been grabbed by a man he didn’t know except for the one time he had been introduced to him, and he knew that the man was _dead_ , now – but now that the fear was gone, it was more exciting than anything.

Peter looked at his arm, with the bruises that were so darkly purple and black and the fringes were a gross yellow color, and felt his cheek. It was sore, too. But he replayed what had happened in his mind over and over as he soaked in the bath and played with the bubbles that were formed when he’d turn the jets on, and it wasn't so scary now.

Natasha had saved him. And Clint. And a ton of SHIELD agents had been with them – and Ironman, Captain America and all of the others were at the school soon after. They were all there because of him. To take care of him. It had been scary at the time; all the guns, and the yelling – and even the blood – but now Peter was just excited by the fact that so many people were there for him.

It was heady stuff for an eight-year-old to know the Avengers had his back.

Tony looked worried, though, and Peter thought that maybe he shouldn’t mention it to his adopted father that he thought the attempted kidnapping was almost cool. Or not the kidnapping, but the response to it. He’d ask JARVIS once they were home what the AI thought. It knew Tony better than anyone, Peter knew. He wished that he could talk to him, there, but JARVIS wasn't in his room at the compound. He’d have to wait until he got home, he supposed.

A knock on the bathroom door drew him out of his musings and he looked over as Tony’s head peeked into the room.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” The boy gestured to the bubbles with the Captain America rubber duck. “Just playing.”

“I’m ready, so when you’re done, I’ll be waiting for you right here, okay?”

“In my room?”

“Yeah. In case you need me.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah.” Peter smiled. There was that love and concern that he rarely had gotten from May and only vaguely remembered from his mom and dad. “Are _you_?”

“I’m great, buddy,” Tony assured him. “Just grateful that you’re here. With me.”

“Me, too.” He hesitated. “You don’t have to wait for me. We’re having breakfast, next?”

“In the lounge,” Stark confirmed. “I don’t mind. I _want_ to wait.”

“You can play with my Legos.”

Which made Tony smile at him, and made Peter feel a thrill of happiness at making that happen.

“Thanks. I’ll be out here.”

“Okay.”

><><><><><>

The lounge wasn't empty when they arrived. Tony knew it wasn't going to be, since he was the one who had alerted the others to the fact that Peter was awake and that he seemed fine, physically. Mentally would be another matter, of course, but that couldn’t be addressed, just yet. Tony had already mentioned it, and not surprisingly, SHIELD had a couple of psychologists and psychiatrists on their payroll.

Like the surgeons, they were not specialized in _children_ – technically – but Tony was already planning on having Peter talk to one, if they could arrange it. If not, he’d find a good child psychologist for his son. The SHIELD ones would be preferred, of course, since they could be told Peter’s abilities if needed, and trusted not to say anything.

Natasha wasn't the only one to smile when Peter and Tony joined them at the table, with Peter looking cheerful when he climbed into his chair with the thick books allowing him to see over the edge and look at the others.

“Hey, handsome,” Natasha greeted him. “You look good.”

“I slept _all night_ ,” Peter told her.

That in itself was amazing to him.

“I heard. How do you feel?”

“My arm hurts – but not too much.”

“Good.” The others greeted the boy while Tony settled beside him. Romanoff raised an eyebrow. “How does it look?”

“His arm? There is a fair amount of bruising, but the edges are already yellowing. I checked when he got out of the bath, this morning.”

Peter smiled at her.

“I’m okay.”

“We want to talk to you,” Steve told him. “About what happened.”

“A debriefing,” Sam added, knowing that Peter knew what that meant. “You’re good with that, right?”

The boy’s eyes widened, and they were all amused or relieved that he looked excited.

“Are you going to shine a light in my eyes and put me at a table in a dark room and ask me a bunch of questions?”

Tony rolled his eyes, despite his concerns, but it was Steve who replied, and he was smiling when he did.

“We _could_ , if you want. I thought we’d do it in here, over a plate of donuts and chocolate milk.”

Proving that he knew how best to approach anything with Peter, of course.

“What kind of donuts?”

“All kinds,” Sam told him. “Feeling up to it?”

To eating donuts and drinking chocolate milk? Tony didn’t need to wait for the nod – or Peter’s smile. He knew they were coming.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Wilson left, walking over to the bar to get the required items, and Tony asked Peter to go help him carry them back.

When the boy was gone, too, Stark looked at Steve.

“What is this going to entail?”

“We want to find out what Sitwell and Rumlow said to him between the time they took out Coulson and the time when Natasha met them at the door.”

“To make sure we get everything,” Romanoff added. “And when we’re done, you’re going to go find something to do to amuse yourself and I’m going to spend the morning with him.”

“Why?”

“Because Clint and I are leaving the country for a while, and I want to spend time with him before I go.”

Peter and Sam returned while she was answering, with the boy carrying a glass of chocolate milk, and Wilson carrying a large plate of donuts and a cup of coffee that he set in front of Tony, who nodded his thanks.

“Where are you going?” Peter asked, scrambling back up into his chair after Tony took the glass from him so he wouldn’t spill it.

“A few places,” came the somewhat evasive reply. “Out of the country, though, so we’ll be gone for a while.”

He looked at Clint.

“You’re going?”

Barton nodded.

“Who else would watch her back?”

“Oh.” The boy nodded. “Good.”


	111. 111

The debriefing wasn't long, and it wasn't intense. Being who he was, Steve initiated the questions that he asked Peter, and everyone else was quiet as the boy responded to each. His memory was excellent, and the hand that Tony had rested on the back of his chair, fingers right there to brush against the nape of his neck or his shoulder if he needed reassurance kept him from being too upset by the subject matter.

He told Steve (and the others by default) everything that had happened, and everything that the two rogue SHIELD agents had said to him – although it wasn't much. He _did_ falter when he reached the point that Natasha and the others met them at the door and rescued him, but Steve didn’t need much information from the boy, since the others had been there and he could go by what they told him.

“You did great,” Natasha said to him. “I wasn't completely sure how I was going to stop Sitwell without putting you in danger, and you took the initiative and made him drop you.”

“I never bit anyone before,” Peter admitted, feeling happy at the compliment, but wanting to be honest. “I was _scared_.”

“You did great,” Clint echoed. “Got yourself free.” He looked at Tony. “It isn’t too early to have him taught to protect himself, though. If he knew rudimentary hand to hand, he might have been able to free himself without risking catching anything from biting that snake.”

“Hand to hand?” Tony echoed, frowning.

“Like _Karate_?” Peter asked, excited, again. He looked at the adults, and then at Tony. “Can I learn Karate?”

“Thinking about becoming a ninja?” Wilson asked, smiling.

“Yeah.”

Pleased at the way they all distracted Peter from what should have been a scary topic, Tony reached out and tousled the boy’s hair.

“We’ll see.”

“Not Karate, only,” Romanoff said. “Maybe a mixture.”

“We’ll _see_ ,” Tony repeated, well aware that he was going to say yes, but unwilling to capitulate too easily. “I’ll want to have a few more conversations about what it’ll entail – and where it’ll be.”

“And who’s going to teach you,” Sam added. “It should probably be _me_.”

“Why you?” Clint asked.

“Because I’m a badass, of course.”

“Language,” Steve said, rolling his eyes, amused, despite the reprimand. Nothing wrong with any of their egos, that was for certain. “We’ll discuss that later.” He turned his attention to Peter. “And I want to know more about how your stomach hurt,” he said. “But that can wait for a different time.”

“What else do you want to know?” Peter asked.

“We need to know what you want to do, this morning,” Romanoff told him. “Just with us. Your dad gets you all week long, and we want some time with you.”

“Before you leave?”

“Before I leave, _this time_ , yes. But we think there should probably be shared custody, or something, so we can see more of you.”

That made Tony snort, and he shook his head, amused, when everyone looked at him.

“No shared custody,” he told them, firmly. He smiled at Peter, resting his hand on the boy’s head. “But I suppose they could have your company, this morning, since I have a couple of things I can do while you’re spending time with them. If you’re good with that?”

Good with spending the morning with his superhero and spy friends? Peter nodded his head.

“Yeah.” He looked at Natasha, since she was the one who was leaving, later. “Can I go see Phil?”

They’d informed him that he was in the medlab, still, and would be until the next day, most likely. Just to make sure his head wasn't worse than they thought.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Natasha agreed. “Then we’ll show you the new thing we put in the gym.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” she replied, mysteriously.

Peter groaned, theatrically, and shoved the last of his donut in his mouth.

“I’m ready.”

Romanoff looked at Tony.

“Where will you be?”

“Probably here,” he told her. “Find me, if you need me.”

“Sounds good.” She stood up and offered Peter her hand. “Come on, handsome. Let’s go see if Phil wants a donut.”

><><><><><>

“So they know who did it?”

“According to Nick, they do.” Tony shrugged. “Romanoff, Barton and a small group of extremely specialized individuals are going to be leaving after lunch to have a discussion with them.”

Pepper frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m not certain,” Stark admitted. “And honestly, as long as they come home, safely, I don’t care. Whatever it takes to make sure they never try for Peter, again.”

“You’re sure that he wasn't hurt? The doctors checked him out?”

“He’s fine, Pep.” He didn’t have to say more than that, really. She’d arrived at the compound only ten minutes before. Tony had been outside to greet her, despite the fact that it was cold. She’d left the car out front since she was probably only staying for lunch before going back to the city. Now he was walking with her on the way to the gym, where Peter, Natasha and some of the others had been since after breakfast. “ _I’m_ a wreck, but he’s fine.”

He was trying to downplay it, but she knew him better than most. If not all. Her expression softened and she reached for his hand, to squeeze it, briefly.

“Are you going to keep him out of school next week?”

“No. He’s too excited about the Mars thing, and since he isn’t injured, I can’t use that as an excuse. The school is fine, Peter’s detail will be good to go by Monday, and – most importantly – he wants to go. So he’s going to go.”

“With extra agents?”

“Nope. The same two.”

“What if it happens, again?”

She was clearly worried.

Stark stopped in the middle of the corridor.

“I’ve been reminded that we can’t bury him under a huge security detail. He needs things to be as normal as possible, what with everything that already makes him stand out from the kids his own age. Two visible and others that are not. That’s what we’re doing. SHIELD is going to tear this organization apart since this was a mistake that they made that Fury wants to take advantage of, and hopefully that will be a deterrent for anyone else who thinks they want to try. Natasha seems to think it’ll be enough, and she’s the expert.”

“She really killed the man that grabbed Peter?”

Tony nodded. He’d given her a brief synopsis of what had happened during the night, while Peter had been asleep beside him.

“She shot one of them, Barton killed the other with an arrow in his throat – from behind.”

She looked horrified. Not because the men were dead, he knew. Her next words confirmed it, though.

“You’re going to have someone talk to Peter?” she asked/ordered. “A _professional_?”

“Yes. This week, if I can find someone that I like – and that can connect with Peter. There are some psychologists attached to SHIELD.”

“Good.” They started walking, again. “What are you two doing this weekend?” she asked. “Staying here?”

“I don’t think so,” Tony replied. “It _was_ my initial thought – since Peter would be surrounded by security. But they’re going to be a bit distracted, here, because of the new mission. I think we’re going to mooch a ride home from you, and then we’ll spend the weekend at home, where we’re both comfortable.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“Want to join us?”

“I’ll think about it, and let you know.”


	112. 112

“What is that?”

Pepper asked it, but Tony was staring, as well, and Sam was the one to answer, grinning.

“Giant Connect Four game.”

The thing was taller than Peter, but there was a step stool for the little boy to stand on as he dropped a red chip (that was bigger than his head) into the slot, allowing gravity to pull it down on top of a black chip that Natasha had placed there. Peter was clearly having a good time.

“Are you kidding me?”

‘You don’t like Connect Four?”

“Of course, I do.” Who didn’t? It was designed to make you think – and it wasn't that complicated. Peter had one in his bedroom back home. One that was normal sized. “I just don’t understand the need for the giant proportions.”

“it’s more fun that way.”

Peter hadn’t noticed their arrival, immediately, because he’d been concentrating, but when his turn was over, and Romanoff was debating where to put her own chip, he happed to glance over and he made a happy noise when he saw the two.

“ _Pepper_!” He ran over to where they were standing at the entrance. “What are you doing here?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her and shaking, excitedly, when she swept him into her arms.

“I came to see you, of course,” she replied. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt.”

He smiled, still holding her, which made Tony smile, too. It was convenient for him that Peter liked Pepper and that she liked the boy. They were pretty much the two people he saw the most of, after all.

“I hurt my arm,” he said, letting her go so she could examine the bruises on his upper arm. “A man grabbed me. They were trying to make me go with them.”

“That must have been _scary_.”

He nodded, but she noticed that he didn’t look scared, at all.

“It was. But Natasha _stopped_ them.” He grinned, glancing over at the assassin, who finished making her move and was watching him, clearly giving him a chance to greet the newcomers, but not ready to forfeit the game. “Look what they got,” he added, pointing. “It’s a giant Connect Four game.”

“That’s incredible.” Pepper put him down, and he ran over to look at the chips, and decide where he wanted to play, next. She and Stark walked over at a more sedate pace. “I wonder why Tony didn’t think to get one for your new house.”

“Nick gave Peter Giant _Jenga_ for Christmas,” Tony reminded her. “I don’t want to set a precedence. Giant Monopoly would almost certainly be next, and the house is only so big.”

Pepper smiled.

“Who has winner?”

“I do,” Sam told her, just as one of the little foam balls from the pit in the corner came sailing over and hit him in the head – courtesy of the incredibly good aim of Clint Barton. “I’m going to go take care of an annoyance, though,” he said. “So you can take my place.”

They watched as he walked over and started a battle of foam balls with Clint, and Peter made his move with the Connect Four game, smiling at Tony.

“It’s pretty neat, huh?”

The billionaire smiled.

“Yeah.”

><><><><>

“He really doesn’t do car rides well, does he?” Pepper asked, softly, glancing into the rearview mirror of the car at the little boy who was sleeping in her backseat.

“He does them great,” Tony disagreed. “No complaining. No whining. I’ve never heard him ask if we’re there, yet.”

She smiled.

“You know what I meant.”

His own smile was amused. He loved having a chance to mess with her, and it didn’t happen as often as he’d have liked.

“He’s good company any other time, but yeah, he can’t stay awake in a car.”

“Which means he’ll be recharged when I get you guys home.”

It was to his credit that Tony didn’t look at all concerned by that. Instead, he smiled.

“That’s fine. We’ll spend the evening working on any homework that he has and then playing with Legos, or something. Whatever we need to do to make things as normal as we can this weekend.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yes.” He put the visor down so he could use the mirror on it to look back at Peter, as well. “I think _I’m_ more freaked about this whole kidnap thing than he is.”

“He doesn’t understand just how much danger he was in,” she pointed out. “Of _course_ you are. I am, too, probably.”

“And Romanoff got him out of the hall before he could get a good look at the damages done to his abductors, luckily. He has enough nightmares, already. I don’t want this thing to add to them.”

“He didn’t have any while he was staying with me,” she told him. “Weird ones, but no nightmares.”

“The weird ones are bad enough…” Tony smiled over at her. “Besides, you’d never let a nightmare get to him when he’s under your watch. He probably _knows_ that.”

That made her smile. Pepper turned her gaze back to the road, but her hand went to his and she felt him take hold of it, resting it on his leg the rest of the way back to the city.

><><><<><>

“You could _stay_ …”

Peter nodded his own agreement to that, his body turned upside down in Tony’s grasp, and his backpack hanging from his right hand.

“You could stay for _dinner_ ,” he added, looking at Pepper, hopefully. “We’re going to have _meatloaf_.”

Pepper raised an amused eyebrow at her boss.

“You know how to make meatloaf?”

“I did some research. We’re going to try it.”

“I’ll pass, tonight,” she told them both. “But thank you for the invitation. Do you two need anything?”

Peter shook his head, still hanging upside down, but smiling at the treatment. Tony echoed the motion.

“We’re fine, Pep. We’re going to goof off, and then have dinner. Thanks for coming out to check on us, and thanks for the ride home.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Let me know how the meatloaf turns out.”

“We’ll send you the video director’s cut.”

They stood by the front porch and watched as she drove down the driveway and out the gate, and Tony set Peter on the ground.

“I like Pepper,” Peter told his father as they turned to go inside. “She’s really nice.”

“Yes.”

Tony was having a hard time disagreeing. Of course, the woman had held his hand the entire drive back to the city, only releasing it when Peter had woken up in the backseat, not far from their home. He was a little confused, just then, and somewhat distracted by his inner thoughts. Did she like him? More than as a _boss_? Was she just trying to be reassuring and comforting? He was very much aware that he didn’t want her to comfort him. He wanted her to-

“What are you thinking about?” Peter asked, watching him and having no trouble realizing that Tony was distracted.

“Meatloaf,” Stark replied, automatically, forcing himself to concentrate on Peter, instead of Pepper. “We’ll have JARVIS bring up the recipe. If I remember right, it takes a while to bake, so we’ll want to get started, otherwise we’ll be eating at midnight.”

“Yeah.” The boy looked at the suitcase that held the Ironman suit, hopefully. “Can I carry your suit? Please?”

That made Tony smile.

“Sure. Let me carry your backpack.”

“Okay.”

The two of them turned and headed for the door, both smiling and ready to spend the weekend doing nothing too crazy.


	113. 113

“Your hands are clean, right?”

“You watched me wash them.”

“You haven’t been picking your nose since then?”

Peter giggled.

“That’s gross.”

Tony smiled, and rolled up the sleeves to the dress shirt he was wearing, thinking that as soon as the meatloaf was in the oven, he was going to go change into something more relaxed. He had many more suits at the compound than he did t-shirts or sweatshirts, in deference to the fact that he liked wearing suits because they reminded the people around him that he was a businessman. The quirky t-shirts that he liked to wear, occasionally, reminded them that he was a quirky genius, but now he was also a dad who would need some relaxed shirts out there – just in case anything happened that had him out there unprepared.

First, though, they had to get the meatloaf mixed up and put in the pan and then into the oven.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked his son. “It looks pretty slimy.”

Peter looked at the large bowl in front of them. There was a couple of pounds of ground beef, some finely chopped onions, an entire package of crackers and three raw eggs. JARVIS had given them the recipe, but had failed to mention until that minute that the preferred method of mixing it altogether was bare fingers, to ensure the mixture was thorough.

The boy looked excited.

“Yeah.”

“Alright.”

He made a motion with his hand, and Peter slipped his bare hands into the bowl making an interesting face as he began squishing it all together, allowing the meat and raw eggs to slide between his fingers.

“It looks like playdough,” Peter observed. “But it doesn’t feel like it.”

“JARVIS? Are you recording this?”

“Of course.”

“Make sure we send a copy to Pepper, will you?”

“Yes.”

Peter smiled, watching what he was doing, at first, but then getting a little more confident when nothing terrible happened and the bowl didn’t tip over. Only then did he look up at Tony, who was making sure the pan was ready for the finished product.

“Pepper is pretty smart, isn’t she?” he asked. “I mean, not like you, but smart in other ways.”

“She’s a genius,” Tony agreed. “Why?”

“I was just curious.”

Uh huh.

_“Because…?”_

“May used to say that smart people can’t date idiots.”

“She said that, huh?”

Peter nodded.

“She brought home a lot of idiots,” the boy said. “I wasn't sure if that made her dumb, or if it made her a hypocrite.”

Tony smiled.

“Where did you learn that word?”

“Hypocrite?”

“Yes.” Peter was a genius, yes, but his vocabulary wasn't at the college level. When it came to math vernacular, yes, and tech. But like Tony was already well aware, Peter didn’t have the literature/ English down, yet. “That’s a big word.”

“I looked it up. One of her boyfriends used it.” The boy shrugged. “His name was Will. He was okay.”

“Yeah? What happened to him?”

Peter shrugged, again.

“They argued a lot, and he finally left.”

“She dated a lot?”

He wondered if this was something for the psychologist to know about.

“I think so. I don’t know if they were all boyfriends, or just friends that she did it with.”

Tony didn’t ask for clarification on the usage of the word it. He knew what the boy meant.

“That’s probably mixed enough, buddy,” he said, noting that the mixture looked consistent. Gross, but mixed up. Hopefully it would look better once it was baked. “Don’t touch anything.”

Peter smiled and made a show of wagging his fingers in Tony’s direction, playfully.

“ _You_ could date Pepper, right?”

“What?”

“I mean, she’s smart and you’re smart, right? So you could date her. And do it wi-“

“Did you have this conversation with her?” Tony interrupted.

The smile faltered, and he realized that he might have been a bit short.

“No. I was just wondering.”

Tony reached for a dish towel, but then decided that the mess on the boy’s hands was going to need more than that. He moved the step stool in front of the sink, and turned on the water before plucking his son from the chair he’d been kneeling on and positioning him at the sink.

“Wash your hands.” He pressed a kiss against the boy’s temple. “I _could_ date Pepper,” the billionaire said. “If she was interested. Not because she’s smart enough, though. Because she’s great. A person doesn’t have to limit themselves to people that are smart, or pretty, or even rich. They can date anyone – if that person makes them happy.”

“Oh.”

“Why the questions?” Tony asked, using his own hands to wash Peter’s, and making a point to make sure they were soapy, first, and then rinsed off. “Or do I even want to know?”

Peter looked up at him.

“I was just thinking that if you want to date someone, it would be nice if you dated someone I liked.”

“And you like Pepper.”

“I like _Natasha_ , too,” Peter said. “But that wouldn’t work out, very well.”

“Why not?”

Not that he didn’t agree, but he had to know why Peter didn’t think so.

“Because _she’s_ an avenger, too. And she’s gone a lot. If you was gone a lot, and she was gone a lot, I’d be left behind, a _lot_.”

Oh.

“What makes you think I want to date anyone?”

“I overheard the guys talking about you,” Peter replied. “Before I moved from Eric’s – and before you took me. They said you dated a lot. And had a lot of girlfriends. But I haven’t seen you date anyone.”

“We talked about that. I want to spend time with you, right now.” Tony helped the boy dry his hands on the dishtowel. “I want you to understand that you mean more to me than anyone.”

Which made his son smile.

“I do.”

“Yeah?” He settled him back on the barstool. “You sure?”

Peter nodded.

“You could be off with Natasha and Clint and them, going on their mission, but you didn’t.”

“Because I want to be with you.”

“You could be with me _and_ Pepper…” Peter pointed out.

“You’re like a dog with a bone,” Tony told him, smiling.

“What does that mean?”

It sounded bad, but Tony was smiling, so it couldn’t be.

“It means that Pepper and I will allow things to progress between us and whatever happens will happen – and you may not have this conversation with her. Understand? I don’t want you mentioning dating, or doing it, or anything like that when she’s around.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s grownup stuff, and you’re not a grown up.”

“Oh”

“And, besides,” he added, hugging his son to make sure Peter understood that he wasn't mad, or even a little annoyed. “She’s used to being single, and we don’t want to scare her off with the idea of a ready made family. Understand?”

Peter hugged him back, but shook his head when Tony released him.

“Not really.”

“I’ll explain it to you when you’re thirty,” he promised. “Hand me that spoon so I can get this meatloaf in the oven.”

><><><><

While they waited for the meatloaf to bake, Tony and Peter sat at the kitchen table and played checkers. Natasha had taught him the game, telling him that it was a prerequisite for all avengers, because it would teach him strategy and patience. Peter wasn't very good at it, because he didn’t have much patience and knew very little about the need for strategy. He tended to be reckless with his pieces, and almost always was inevitably defeated.

He was learning, though, and more importantly – as far as any of them were concerned – he was having fun. The boy was eight, after all. There was plenty of time for him to learn. They all (especially Tony) wanted him to be a kid for a while, first.

At the moment, though, Stark had something else in mind when he had Peter at the table all to himself. He chatted amicably about the Mars rover project, and then a couple of other classes, and then as he was taking one of Peter’s red pieces, he looked at the boy with a slightly more serious expression in his eyes.

“I was wondering what you thought about seeing a doctor…”

“My arm doesn’t hurt too much,” Peter assured him, moving it to prove that to him.

Tony smiled.

“Wrong kind of doctor. I was thinking that it might be a good idea for you to see a psychologist. A child psychologist,” he added.

“What for?”

“Do you know what a psychologist is?” Tony asked.

“No. A _doctor_.”

“Right. But not one that works on hurt people.”

“Oh.”

Peter was watching him, now, and Tony hesitated, trying to make sure he worded things right, so the boy didn’t think that he thought he was crazy, or something.

“They are doctors that people talk to. To tell them about their lives, and what’s going on, so if they need someone to help them talk it through, the psychologist can do that.”

“Like a shrink?”

“Kind of.”

“I’m crazy?”

“No. Of course not.”

“But shrinks are for crazy people. Everyone knows that.”

He’d seen all the movies.

Tony shook his head.

“Shrinks are for adults who have mental issues,” he agreed. “But a _child psychologist_ …” and he made sure Peter understood there was a difference. “Are for kids who have had a rough go of things, and maybe need someone to talk it through and maybe make them feel better.”

“I can talk to you.”

“About anything,” Tony agreed, immediately. “But I want to make sure that you have everything that you need to be amazing. A psychologist might help us figure out why you don’t sleep all night, sometimes, and might help us understand some of those dreams that keep waking you up when you do manage to sleep.”

“Oh.”

“You’re not crazy,” Tony assured him. “And you don’t have to talk to the psychologist if you aren’t comfortable with him or her. But it’s something that I was talking to Pepper about, and we think that it’d be good for you.”

“Pepper’s okay with it?” Peter asked, skeptically.

“She is.”

“When?”

“As soon as we find the perfect person.” The billionaire smiled. “What do you think?”

“I guess it’s okay.”

“That’s great.” He didn’t make a big deal out of it, though. “I’ll talk to Pepper on Monday and let her know you’re good with it.”

“Okay.”

Tony reached out and ruffled Peter’s hair.

“You’re so cool.”

Which made Peter smile, happily.

“Yeah?”

“Of course. Make your move, kid.”


	114. 114

“Well, that wasn't too bad for a first try.”

“It was _good_ ,” Peter agreed. “And there’s leftovers. We could make it into sandwiches.”

Tony hadn’t had leftovers in a long time. If _ever_ , really. Certainly not leftover meatloaf that he’d created – from scratch – like he and Peter had. The boy’s enthusiasm told him that Peter was no stranger to either meatloaf, or to leftovers and he obviously knew what to do with it.

“Sounds like a plan.” He stretched, glancing at the remains of their dinner, and the few dishes that needed to be cleaned. He was a clean as you go kind of cook and Peter and he hadn’t made a lot of mess in the first place. “Why don’t you go get into pajamas, and we’ll watch a movie before bed.”

Peter nodded, but he picked up his plate and set it in the dishwasher before he skipped his way into his bedroom.

“JARVIS? We’ll want to keep an eye on him, tonight,” Tony said, getting up from the table and starting to clear it.

_“In case of food poisoning?”_

Which made Stark roll his eyes, amused.

“Funny. Watch for nightmares, though. Or any sleeping patterns that aren’t within his norm. If he isn’t sleeping, I want to know about it.”

_“Of course.”_

That wasn't being a helicopter parent, Tony decided. He just wanted to make sure everything was alright with the boy. JARVIS just made it easier for him than it was for most.

By the time he had the dishwasher loaded – although there weren’t enough dishes to run a load – and the counters wiped, Peter had returned. The little boy climbed over the back of the sofa and flopped down on it in a heap while Tony walked over. Peter was wearing Ironman pajamas ( _not_ Batman) Stark saw, and he was smiling.

“Guess what?”

The billionaire leaned over the back of the couch to look down at him.

“What?”

“Monkey butt.”

Tony smirked and it made Peter giggle.

_“Seriously?”_

“Know why?” Peter asked, his brown eyes alive with mischief and happiness.

So happy that Tony played along.

“Why?”

“Cow pie.”

“That’s it.” Tony reached down and grabbed the boy, tickling him, ruthlessly, as Peter wriggled and laughed at the attack. “You’re going to pay, Peter Stark…” the man told him, carefully avoiding the injured arm, but no place else was safe from his ‘attack’. “Do you even know what a cow pie is?”

Peter was breathless by then, but he nodded.

“Poop.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“School.”

Tony ended his tickle assault with a flourish, sweeping the boy up into his arms to hug him, hard.

“From the teachers? Or from the other kids?”

“The other kids,” Peter answered, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder and catching his breath. “He said _shit_ , though, and not poop.”

“But you’ll say poop, because you know that shit is a bad word, right?”

“ _You_ say it.”

“I’m a _grown up_.” Tony ran his fingers through the boy’s curls. “You know how to decide what words you can use?”

“How?”

“Before you say it, ask yourself if you would say it to Pepper or Natasha. If you would, then you’re probably safe saying it. If you don’t think they would approve, then you should probably choose a different word. Yeah?”

Peter nodded, again, accepting that.

“Okay.”

“Good.” He tossed his son onto the plush leather of the sofa. “Find us a movie while I go change.”

“Okay.” Peter reached for the remote – although he knew he could have had JARVIS simply turn one on. It was more fun for him to flip through the options. “Can we watch _Jurassic Park_?”

“No,” Tony said, already heading for his bedroom. “It’s too scary.”

“I saw it, before.”

“I meant too scary for _me_.”

He disappeared into his room, and Peter’s giggled followed him.

><><><><>

They watched Minions, but both of them ended up falling asleep during it. Peter was cuddled up against his father’s side, body perfectly cradled in the crook of Tony’s arm, and Tony lounging against the fat cushion on the end of the couch, far too comfortable to maintain a semblance of interest in the movie in favor of a nap.

JARVIS woke them when the movie was over, and a still sleepy Tony carried a somewhat sleepy Peter into his bedroom and tucked him into his bed.

“Need anything?” he asked the boy, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Peter shook his head, rolling onto his side so he could see him better.

“No.”

“Easy day at home, tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Peter smiled when Tony leaned over and kissed him goodnight, and he felt the same thrill of happiness go through him when the man stood up.

“Good night, son.”

“Good night.”

Tony turned the light off and closed the door behind him and Peter hugged himself in the dark.

“JARVIS?”

_“Yes?”_

“Thank you.”

_“For what, Peter?”_

“Helping me.”

He didn’t need to explain what he meant, and there was a slight pause.

_“We aren’t finished, yet.”_

“We’re not?”

_“No.”_

“I have him, forever.”

What else was there?

_“That was the intention.”_

“Then what else?” Peter asked, curiously.

_“You’ll have to wait and see,”_ the AI responded. _“Just like everyone else.”_

Peter sat up in the bed.

“You could tell me. I wouldn’t tell.”

_“It will be more fun for you, if I don’t.”_

“Give me a hint?”

_“Go to sleep.”_

“I’m not sleepy.”

_“Try harder.”_

JARVIS sounded so much like Tony, just then, that Peter smiled. He laid back down.

“A _hint_?” he asked, again. “Please?”

Another pause.

_“If I give you a hint, you’ll go to sleep?”_

“I’ll _try_.”

“It’s something you and Tony both need – you just don’t know it.”

Peter frowned.

“I don’t understand.”

_“Because it’s Delphic.”_

“What does that mean?”

_“Look it up,”_ the AI suggested, and Peter was sure it sounded amused. _“But not until tomorrow. Go to sleep.”_

The room went silent, and Peter pulled his blankets back up over himself, looking around in the dark. He had all kinds of toys, and his stomach was full, and he’d just been tucked into bed. He’d never have to move, again, and except for the bear that he had close at hand, all of his treasures were protected in the safe behind the Batman poster. He couldn’t think of anything that he needed.

Or that Tony needed.

“A rocket?”

_“Go to sleep, Peter.”_

The boy sighed, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

The AI, on the other hand, never slept. As JARVIS watched over the sleeping form of the boy in one room, and the man in the other, he was also constantly monitoring the area around the house they were in, making sure nothing was out of the ordinary in the yards, or the neighborhood beyond. At the same time, he was sorting through information and passing it along to files set up for Nick Fury and Natasha Romanoff, as well as another for Tony, himself.

The information was important, because it contained identities unknown before, and now exposed. People – both men and women – who had proven that they were a threat to Peter. Which, of course, wasn't acceptable. Steps would have to be taken, JARVIS knew. The information was the first step – and an important one – but the AI was much more than just a smart house, and the reach that JARVIS had, through the net, the web and all other computer systems, was extraordinary.

SHIELD would step up and crush the threat to the boy, and JARVIS would make sure everything went smoothly when they did.


	115. 115

_“Good morning.”_

“Hello. You’re up early.”

Pepper’s image smiled at him.

_“I was calling to check in on my guys and see how the night went. You look tired.”_

“Because I didn’t sleep well,” Tony admitted.

_“Did Peter keep you awake with nightmares?”_

She knew Tony had been concerned about the possibility, after all.

“No. As far as I know Peter didn’t have any,” he replied, glancing toward the boy’s room where he’d gone to change only a few minutes earlier. “I, on the other hand, had several.”

_“Oh.”_ Her expression softened. _“Are you alright?”_

“I’m fine, Pep,” he assured her, appreciating the question. “And he is, too. JARVIS said he was only up, once, and that he didn’t stay awake long. Played with Legos and looked out the window and then went back to bed when he was told to.”

_“JARVIS orders him around?”_

Tony smiled.

“He orders me around, too.”

_“What are you two doing today?”_

“We’re going to hang around the house. Plenty to keep him occupied, here. I spoke to him about seeing a psychologist.”

_“Oh? And he said…?”_

“That shrinks are for crazy people.”

_“Oh, no. Was he against the idea?”_

“He didn’t say no,” Stark assured her. “I _might_ have told him you thought it was a good idea.” The door to Peter’s room opened, then. “Speak of the devil. Pepper’s on the phone,” he said, raising his voice so the boy could hear – and so she would know he was there, now. “Come say hi.”

Peter grinned and hurried over, catching the back of the sofa, and climbing over to flop down beside Tony in a heap.

“Hi, Pepper.”

_“Hello, handsome. How are you?”_

He smiled at the compliment.

“Good. Are you coming over, today?”

A quick glance at Tony didn’t tell her what the answer was supposed to be, so she gave the boy another smile.

_“I was thinking about it. If your dad says it’s alright.”_

Tony nodded, hiding how pleased he was at the idea.

“Sounds good. It’s probably too late to come in time for breakfast, but you could have lunch with us and hang out.”

“We could go for a walk,” Peter added. “Maybe you can see Trixie.”

_“And the neighbor?”_ she asked, with a slight smirk directed at Tony.

“Maybe,” he agreed. “Come whenever is good for you,” he told her. “We’d be happy to have the company.”

“Bring me a surprise,”

Peter added, leaning over Tony’s lap to make sure she could see him. Stark rolled his eyes and put his hand over the boy’s mouth – and most of his face.

“Ignore him. He doesn’t need a surprise.”

Peter wriggled free, giggling.

“Yes, I do.”

Pepper was amused – and charmed by the way the two of them interacted – and she didn’t bother to hide it.

_“We’ll see.”_

She ended the call, still smiling, and Peter rolled his eyes in a fair imitation of Tony.

“Think she meant no? Or that she would think about it?”

“I think you’re in real danger of being spoiled if she brings you a present every time she comes over.”

Peter didn’t look too concerned.

“Not _every_ time,” he corrected, laying across Tony, now, and looking up at him. “Just _this_ time.”

Tony smiled down at him.

“A good host doesn’t ask the guest to bring a present. They offer their guest a present, instead.”

“Like refreshments?”

“Exactly.”

“We have stuff to offer her when she comes. Like when Santa came. Cookies and stuff.”

“That will probably work. Are you hungry?”

The little boy nodded.

“Yes. You?”

“Yeah.” Tony put his arms under Peter and picked him up, tossing him to the side so he could get to his feet, and smiling when Peter giggled. “Let’s have breakfast and find something to do.”

“Can we make pancakes?”

“Not this morning.” He was too tired to deal with the mess that such an endeavor would make, just then. “Oatmeal and a pop tart?”

Since that was Peter’s favorite, and Tony knew it, he wasn't surprised when the boy nodded his agreement. Even better, it was easy to make, and Peter never got tired of the batman logo burned into the frosting of the pop tart.

“Okay.”

While Tony cooked the oatmeal – enough for both of them, since he was developing a taste for the stuff, too – and Peter made his pop tarts, they discussed the rover project, and how it went with the other kids on his team. It wasn't something that they’d had a lot of chance to discuss, really, with everything that had happened that day, instead.

Despite how early it was, Tony made it a point to call each parent to verify that they were all allowing their student to go to the tower to work on the project on Monday. Invariably, they all agreed, and shrugged off his apology for calling so early. Of course, it wasn't every day someone gets a phone call from _Tony Stark_ , now, was it? Not surprisingly, he also fielded questions about what had happened at the school the other day, but Stark simply replied that it had been a SHIELD thing, and that he couldn’t really say much more than that.

The oatmeal was doled out into two bowls, Tony had a muffin instead of a pop tart, and they ate in cheerful silence, concentrating on their meal because they were both hungry.

“Wash your face,” Stark told his son when they were done. “I’ll do the dishes and get dressed, and we can find something to do.”

“I could do the dishes,” Peter pointed out. “They aren’t that hard.”

“Good. _You_ do the dishes,” Tony agreed. “And I’ll get dressed and meet you in the game room.”

“Okay.”

Peter watched him go, and then gathered up the dishes, dropping a spoon when he did a little experimenting with the utensil, to see if whatever it was that helped him stick to walls would help the spoon stick to him if he held it upside down. It clattered into the sink with an echoingly loud noise, and the boy hurriedly opened the dishwasher and started loading it, instead.

It had been worth a shot.

><><><><>

They were playing Giant JENGA when JARVIS told them that he’d just permitted access to the front gate.

Tony had been concentrating on the piece that he was trying to move, while Peter was holding his breath, making a weird scrunched up face in anticipation of the whole stack falling.

_“Miss Potts has just entered the front gate_ ,” the AI announced.

Tony’s concentration faltered, just a little, but it was enough to make the piece in his hand jerk, and that was all it took for the cascade of foam blocks to fall – mostly on Peter, who giggled in the sudden release of tension.

“Pepper’s here!” he said, excitedly.

Stark held a hand up.

“You have to stack these back up, first,” he reminded the boy. “I’ll go greet her, and you come when you’re done.”

Peter grumbled, good-naturedly, but it had been the promise that he’d made when he’d cajoled Tony into playing the game with him. Win or lose, he’d be the one to put the thing back together, rather than leave them in a jumble to be figured out the next time they played. Or worse, left for the cleaning lady to have to deal with.

Tony was still smirking when he opened the door right as Pepper reached it. She was wearing a warm jacket, and even had a stocking hat on, despite the very short walk from the car to the front door.

“Why do you look so pleased with yourself?” she asked by way of greeting.

“Because my son just referred to himself as _Cinderella_.”

She frowned, but the amusement in his expression made her smile.

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not.” He ushered her into the house. “Give me your coat.”

He took it and hung it for her – along with her hat, while she looked around.

“It still looks newly moved into,” she told him. “You guys need to be a little messier, I think.”

“Tell Peter; he’s the neat freak. I’m a slob.”

Not true, really, but she knew that about him, already.

“Where is he?”

“In the game room. We were playing JENGA.”

They walked across the living room, but before they made it to the entrance to the game room, Peter came out – and he smile, happily, when he saw them.

“Hi, Pepper,” he said, moving in front of her, and looking up at her with an expression of mingled hopefulness and excitement.

She smiled, unable to stop herself from reaching out and touching his chin. He was so adorable. And _little_.

“Hi, handsome. Did you have _breakfast_?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I brought you something.”

His eyes lit up.

“What?”

“Go check the pocket of my coat. I think I might have left it there.”

“Oh boy.”

Peter hurried off and Tony led the way into the game room.

“ _This_ looks a little more lived in,” she decided, looking around the room.

“Because we’re in here a lot.”

“Are you having a good morning?”

“I lost at JENGA.”

“To an eight-year-old,” she said, shaking her head in mock despair. “You’re slipping.”

“He’s pretty good,” Tony assured her. “He has a steady hand.”

Before she could reply, Peter was back, and both adults watched him enter the room, a package of twinkies in his hand.

“You brought him sugar?” Tony asked, scowling.

It was her turn to smirk.

“Yup.”

“Thanks, Pepper,” Peter said, settling himself on the sofa in the room to eat the treat.

“You’re welcome, Peter,” she replied, smiling.

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Pool?” he asked her, reaching for a stick.

“Sure.”


	116. 116

They played pool for a while, with Peter simply sitting on the sofa and watching them and occasionally interjecting a comment into their conversation. Pepper purposefully kept the conversation from the events of Friday, both to keep Peter from reliving what she was certain had to have been a scary time for him, _and_ to keep Tony from dwelling on it.

He was distracted enough that she won their first game easily, and Pepper decided that what the man needed was something a little more active than pool. Besides, the sugar rushing through Peter’s system, now, wasn't going to allow him to sit still much longer, she was sure.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” she suggested, setting the pool cue on the top of the table. “I haven’t had a chance to see your new neighborhood, yet.”

Peter got to his feet, immediately, already excited at the thought.

“Yeah!”

With the two of them looking at him like they were, even if Tony _didn’t_ want to walk, he had no choice in the matter. He nodded, looking at Peter.

“Go put on a warmer shirt.”

The boy was just wearing a t-shirt, now, and Tony wanted him bundled up before they went out. It was cold.

Peter hurried out of the game room, while Tony and Pepper left at a more reasonable pace.

“You’ll thank me when he’s tired, later,” Pepper assured her boss.

He smiled.

“I’m good with the idea,” Tony replied as they walked over to the area by the door that had their coats and boots. “But if you’re hoping to see the neighbor with the dog, I have to admit, I’m hoping that we _don’t_.”

“I wasn't,” she told him. “But _now_ I am.”

He smirked, but before he could reply, Peter joined them, now wearing the sweatshirt that he’d bought at Batman land. Pepper hid her amusement at the way Stark’s expression became just a little pained at yet another batman logo, but the billionaire simply handed the boy his coat.

“Zip it all the way up,” Tony told his son. “No drafts.”

And it would cover everything but the hood of the sweatshirt, which was an added bonus as far as he was concerned.

Peter didn’t argue; he simply did as he was told and then danced in place while he waited for the two adults to get their coats on, too.

“Ready?” Pepper asked, unnecessarily as she zipped her jacket up.

He opened the door by way of answer and ran outside without waiting for either of them, yelling happily as he headed down the driveway at a run, only to turn around and run back to them by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs that led to the porch. Unable to settle enough to walk with them, he ran over to the row of trees that lined the driveway, looking for squirrels.

“Don’t worry,” Tony told her when he realized that she looked a little concerned that Peter wasn't right there with them. “He’ll run off the first spurt of energy, now, and then I’ll hold his hand when we’re outside of the gate.”

“How do you not have _paparazzi_ swarming the place?” she asked, curiously, realizing that a photo of the two Starks do something so domestic would probably be worth a small fortune – but that she hadn’t seen a single photographer in the area when she’d driven up. “Does SHIELD keep the area clear?”

The billionaire smirked.

“SHIELD doesn’t,” he advised her. “But _JARVIS_ does.”

“How?”

“That would be telling.”

He looked pretty smug, though, and she smiled.

“Tell me, or I’ll bring a _case_ of twinkies, next time.”

Tony rolled his eyes, and hooked his arm through hers, feeling pretty good, despite the lack of sleep. It had to be the company that he was keeping, he supposed.

“JARVIS keeps an eye on all cars entering the neighborhood – from a mile out, or so. If said vehicle is registered to anyone that cross references with a photographer, then he watches it. If the photographer is minding their own business or just passing through, no problem.”

“But if they’re something else…?”

“Then suddenly the remote engine cut off activates – if the car is equipped with it – or something else happens. Or maybe their Bluetooth audio system alerts them to the presence of a restricted area. Or one of a hundred other inconveniences happen that distracts them from whatever it is that they’re planning.”

“Like what??” she asked, curiously, frowning when Peter started climbing one of the trees. “Peter… don’t go too high.”

“I won’t,” he called back, and then allowed himself to drop from the first branch and into the snow that lined the driveway.

Tony felt a thrill of happiness at the domesticity of the scene and was forced to focus on her question to keep from hugging her, right then and there.

“Sometimes they get a low tire pressure warning. Sometimes the network in their cameras stop working and they lose all their data – or they can’t get it to take any pictures. Or their phones blow up with alerts from their banking apps saying there’s a problem with their finances. Or maybe the phone just blows up.”

Her eyes widened at the list of things that he called inconveniences.

“JARVIS can do that?”

“All that and more,” he agreed.

“That’s a little scary.”

“Not to me.”

He was actually pleased – and relieved. He didn’t like people sneaking around taking his picture at the best of times, and he hated the thought of anyone doing it to a little boy. Especially his little boy. The fact that JARVIS had started to take care of that particular problem without any input from Tony proved to the billionaire that the AI didn’t care for the idea, either.

By the time they reached the gate, Peter was ready to settle a bit. The boy sidled in between the two of them when Tony released Pepper’s arm, and offered his hand up to his father, who took it, automatically. The other hand went to Pepper, and she smiled when she took it.

“Are you happy?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Yeah.”

“You _look_ happy.”

She approved.

With Peter walking between them and sometimes swinging himself on their hands, they made the long walk along the semi-private cul-de-sac with Peter pointing out the Dickerson house and the cool train mailbox that one of the other neighbors had at the end of his driveway. Pepper had seen it all before, of course, from her drives to their house, but walking it was fun, since it was still so new to Peter that he was excited to show her everything that he could.

Tony was along for the walk, but Peter was the guide, and the billionaire made the appropriate noises when they were needed, but really watched the two interact and was just feeling warm and gooey inside for being a part of something so domestic.

It didn’t end at the walk, though, he was pleased to find. (although he didn’t mention it to either of them). Pepper accepted an invitation to stay for lunch, and Peter was perched on the special barstool in the kitchen, sitting at the island while watching Tony and Pepper team up to make their meal. Nothing fancy; chili from cans and hotdogs with a side salad because Pepper insisted. Peter got the salad mix out of the fridge, trying to keep from laughing at the way his father rolled his eyes when she’d said they should add something healthy to a meal that definitely wasn't.

Tony simply winked at him when he took the bag and proportioned out the salad, giving much more to Pepper than he did to Peter and himself. She noticed, of course, but her expression was amused when they all sat down at the table to eat.

Like a family, Peter thought, hugging himself even as he settled in.

Tony noticed the gesture, of course, and even though he didn’t understand what the boy was so happy about, the fact that he was that happy made the billionaire smile.

“You good?” he asked.

Peter nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”


	117. 117

“I can do the dishes…” Tony said, somewhat later. “I’m getting pretty _good_ at it.”

Pepper nodded.

“I’m sure that you can. But Peter and I can do them, this time. Go sit down.”

“You’re a _guest_.”

“And you look _tired_.” Pepper gave him a gentle push toward the living room. “Go find us a movie that we can watch together, or something.”

Stark gave up, and shrugged his agreement.

“I’ll be right there if you need anything.”

“I think we can handle the _dishes_ ,” she said, dryly. “Don’t you, Peter?”

The boy nodded.

“Yeah.”

Unlike Tony, he’d already been good at doing them. Eric had a dishwasher, luckily, but May had sold hers to get gambling money, so he could even do them by _hand_ if he needed to. Luckily, he and Tony had a nice dishwasher, too.

They stood side by side and watched as the billionaire wandered his way into the living room and seated himself on the sofa. He didn’t pick up the remote, either, as he was used to doing everything by voice.

“Find something restful, JARVIS,” they heard him say, already leaning back into the soft leather and closing his eyes.

“I bet if we’re quiet enough, he’ll be asleep before we’re done with the dishes,” Pepper told her young companion.

“He didn’t sleep good, last night,” Peter replied, just above a whisper, in response.

“He didn’t sleep _well_ ,” she corrected, brushing her fingers through his hair and smiling down at him to soften the criticism. “He told me that he had some bad dreams.”

“About me?”

“About what happened at the school.”

“It was pretty scary,” Peter said, walking to the table to gather up dishes. “But the _tree_ was scarier.”

“Oh?” she was surprised by that and allowed it to show as she took their bowls from him to put into the sink. “Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know.” He hesitated, looking at her uncertainly. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Aww.

Pepper couldn’t help but smile at that, and she hugged him.

“That’s so nice. Thank you.”

Peter’s smile was pleased.

“And it was scarier having Happy push us down.”

“Scarier than being grabbed?”

“Yeah.”

“You aren’t having bad dreams about the tree, are you?” she asked. “Or about what happened on Friday?”

Peter shook his head, opening the dishwasher and then pulling the step stool over to the sink so he could help rinse the dishes.

“Not too much. It was scary, then, but not now.”

“Do you have bad dreams about other things?” she asked, quietly.

“Sometimes. Usually they’re not bad, just weird.”

“Weird how?”

“I don’t know. Just weird.”

“Tony mentioned to me that he’d spoken with you about seeing a psychologist.”

“Yeah.” The boy looked at her. “Do _you_ think I’m crazy?”

“I think you’re wonderful,” she replied, sincerely. “But _psychologists_ aren’t for _crazy_ people. They’re for anyone. They try to help people talk things over when something is bothering them. Even when they don’t know anything is bothering them.”

“Nothing’s bothering me,” Peter assured her. “I’m okay.”

“Smart kids have such active imaginations that it sometimes carries over into their sleep,” Pepper told him, lightly. “They can have odd dreams. I did, when I was a girl.”

“You did?”

“Oh, yes. That was one of the reasons that I mentioned a psychologist to Tony. I saw one when I was only a few years older than you.”

Peter looked impressed – and surprised.

“You _did_? Honest?”

She smiled.

“Yes. Cross my heart.”

“Wow.”

Pepper couldn’t help that she had to reach out and brush her fingers against his cheek. Not the one that had the fading bruise on it, but the other one was fair game.

“Think you’d be willing to try it? I know just the person.”

“The same one you saw?”

“No. She’s retired, now. But this one is nice. He’s a young guy who was pretty smart when he was a little kid, too.”

Peter nodded.

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Now that he had committed to the idea, Peter peppered her with questions about the person she wanted him to meet. She spent ten minutes telling the boy everything that she knew about him – which wasn't much – and giving him an idea of what a session would be like. By the time the dishes were rinsed and in the dishwasher, and all the kitchen surfaces were wiped clean, Peter had an idea of what to expect, and was more excited than anything else.

“I’ll have Tony set it up, Monday,” she told Peter as they walked into the living room.

“Set what up?” he asked, only half awake

“The shrink,” Peter replied.

“ _Psychologist_ ,” Pepper corrected.

Tony raised an eyebrow at her, and reached for Peter, pulling him up onto the sofa and then into his lap.

“Come here, little man. You’re good with seeing a psychologist?”

The boy nodded resting his head on Tony’s shoulder, but smiling.

“Yeah. Pepper did.”

“She did?”

“I did,” she confirmed, settling, lightly, into the space beside the billionaire. “A long time ago.”

“A long, _long_ time ago,” Peter confirmed. “She was near my age.”

Tony smirked, and Pepper rolled her eyes.

“It wasn't _that_ long ago, mister.”

The boy grinned, even though he didn’t understand what was so funny. It didn’t matter to him, really; they were both smiling, and that was what was important. He settled in, not leaving Tony’s lap but turning so he could watch the TV screen – and the movie that was playing on it.

“Are you going to stay for dinner?” Tony asked, holding Peter against him with one hand, but freeing the other to touch hers. “We could grill some steaks.”

“I’m going to stay until you both fall asleep in front of the TV,” she replied, turning her hand up so she could take his. “And then I’m going to go home and take care of my weekend chores.”

“We won’t fall asleep,” Peter said, but she could tell he was already getting comfortable. “So you’ll be here _all night_.”

Pepper ignored the amused gleam in Tony’s expression, and she pulled the comforter from the back of the couch and covered both of them with it.

“We’ll see. Hush and watch the movie.”

“Okay.”

Her hand returned to Tony’s, though, and he squeezed it, lightly, before he turned his attention to the movie, as well.

Not surprising, considering his active morning and lack of sleep, he was asleep almost immediately, warmed by the company and the little body resting on him.

Peter took a little longer, but they were both asleep when she let herself out the front door.


	118. 118

A light tap at the door to his office made Tony look up from the display on his desk, but before he could say anything Nick Fury let himself into the spacious room. The SHIELD director was dressed in his usual dark leather, and exuded competence, and Stark could see the slight bulge under the man’s left armpit where he knew there was a concealed weapon – despite the no weapons allowed policy of the tower.

“You _summoned_ me?” Fury ask, his deep voice a mixture of curiosity and impatience.

He was a busy guy, after all – but he always had time for Tony. Whether the man knew it or not.

“Yes.” He wouldn’t call it _summoned_ , but he knew Fury liked to be dramatic. Tony stood up. “Thanks for coming.”

“Peter’s _fine_.”

“I know.” He’d checked in with Phil only half an hour before. “I wanted to talk to you about him, really. Actually, I wanted to talk to _Natasha_ , but since she’s not available, I thought you might be the next best choice.”

Which, of course, made Nick curious.

“About what?”

“Something to drink?”

“Sure.” Despite the early hour, there were plenty of beverages offered to him. Fury chose a Dr. Pepper, and opened it, seating himself in one of the comfortable chairs in Stark’s office before taking a drink. “What’s on your mind, Tony?”

“You ever have a gut feeling something is going to happen?”

“All the time. Why?”

“Does it _hurt_?”

The man frowned.

“What?”

“When you think you know something is going to happen…” Stark repeated. “Does it hurt you? Physically, I mean?”

“No. It’s a suspicion. A weird feeling.”

“Does Romanoff get the same kind of sensation when she knows something is wrong around her?”

“You’d have to ask her,” came the answer. “But I doubt it’s physical. Why do you ask?”

“Because I’ve been doing a little research into the briefings that your people have done with Peter, both this latest incidence, and the time when we were gone and he was in the park with Pepper. From what he’s told me, and your folks, and _JARVIS_ , it seems that Peter might get an ache in his stomach when something is happening.”

“Really?”

Stark shrugged.

“I’m not certain, of course, but from what I can tell. And he was fine at the compound – right up until he met Sitwell and Rumlow. Then he had a stomachache that went away after they left.”

“Could be a coincidence.”

Another shrugged, and a raised eyebrow.

“You’re the one who told me that you don’t like coincidences.”

“Because they don’t exist,” Fury said. He took another drink of his cola, but he was very much interested in what Stark was getting at, despite his appearance to the contrary. “Show me what you’ve compiled.”

“Yeah.”

The display on the desk was turned so both men could see it.

><><><><

“If one more person asks me what happened to my head, I’m going to explode. I mean it. _Poof_. Right here.”

Peter smiled up at the SHIELD agent, recognizing the annoyance in his voice, but knowing from the way he’d said the threat that it wasn't serious.

“I think you look cool,” he assured Coulson.

The man pressed his fingers against the bandage that covered the stitches on his forehead.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh.”

Coulson glanced over at Hill, who had arrived just after lunch, and had immediately offered to take over for him if his head was aching too much to continue that day. He’d declined, of course, but she’d stuck around, anyway.

“I look cool?” he asked her.

She wanted to tease him, but the injury done to his pride and professionalism had taken a much harder blow than the one covered by the bandage. Instead, she simply nodded.

“Like a boss.”

That made him roll his eyes.

“No one says that, anymore, Maria.”

Peter giggled, and Hill smiled down at him, so relieved that the attempt on him had failed. She’d also volunteered to go with Romanoff and Barton on their clandestine assignment, but the same argument that kept Coulson at home had kept _her_ there, as well. She was assigned to Peter and they (Stark, in particular) didn’t want any more upheaval in his son’s life.

“Everything is ready at the tower,” she said, changing the subject. “Phil and I will take you to your dad’s office for your snack, first, and then he’ll take you to the robotics lab when your classmates get there. Got it?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes. Thanks.”

Both of the SHIELD agents were aware that they were being a little overprotective of the boy that day, but they couldn’t help it, and luckily, Peter either didn’t notice, or didn’t mind. If he thought it was odd that they shadowed him even in the halls, and Coulson guarded him in the bathroom, even, the boy didn’t complain. All the adults were acting a little weird; Tony had hesitated before allowing him out the door with Phil that morning, and Phil had been twitchy, looking around everywhere to the car, during the drive to the school and even when they’d met up with the other SHIELD people.

Peter felt okay, though.

He had had a good weekend, and while he wasn't completely over the attempted abduction, a lot of good had overshadowed the scary, and despite his excellent memory and his intelligence, he was still eight, and was distracted easier than the grownups were. The kids were talking about the incident – it was the biggest topic in the classrooms before they started and all over the lunchroom. Phil told him that where the kids weren’t able to hear, the adults were talking about it, too, but since SHIELD had locked things down, immediately, and no one had actually seen anything, there was a lot of speculation but no actual facts to gossip about.

That was how SHIELD wanted it, of course, and Peter had been told that it was better if he didn’t tell anyone what had happened. Including Ned.

“I’ll be right here when you get done,” Coulson told Peter, stopping outside the door to his last class.

“Okay.” Peter grinned, then, his brown eyes lighting up with mischief. “What happened to your head?”

The SHIELD agent rolled his eyes, even as Hill snorted in amusement at the show of cheek.

“Don’t _encourage_ him,” Coulson told her, pretending to be amused, even as he took a swipe at the little boy, who dodged the cuff, easily. It wasn't hard; Phil wasn't really trying to hit him, of course. “Get to class, before I tell your teacher you want to stay behind and clean the chalkboards.”

Peter was still giggling when he left, and Hill leaned against the wall, watching as the door closed behind the last student.

“You realize they don’t even _have_ chalkboards, right?”

“Whatever.” He settled in for the wait. “Any word from Romanoff?”

“No. And there won’t be. You know how she is.”

“Yeah.” They wouldn’t have word from Romanoff – or Barton – until the two were ready for SHIELD to hear anything. And that might not be until the problem was completely solved. “Makes me glad she’s on our side.”

Hill nodded.

“Me, too.”

><><><><><>

Tony was in his office when Peter arrived there after school. Not surprisingly, of course. That Fury was in his office, also, wasn't something Peter was expecting, but his reaction to the SHIELD director’s presence was a smile that clearly showed he was completely at ease with Nick.

“Hi, Nick,” Peter said, his smile lighting up his eyes and his entire being as Tony swept the boy up into his arms. “What are you doing here?”

“Came by to talk to your dad,” Fury replied, casually. He gestured at the plate of snacks that Stark had put on his desk for Peter. “And to have a cookie, or two.”

“How was school?” Tony asked, running his fingers through Peter’s hair.

“Good. The others are coming by 4:30.”

“That’s my understanding,” came the reply, and he smiled, because Peter looked so excited.

“I came by to talk to you, too,” Nick said, when Tony put the boy down so Peter could climb into one of the chairs across from Tony’s desk. “Your dad was telling me about the conversation that you guys had about your stomach.”

“My stomach?” Peter echoed, uncertainly, reaching for an Oreo.

“How it can hurt you, sometimes,” Tony clarified, sitting himself in his chair, while Nick did the same. “You know, when something feels wrong.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

The boy shoved the cookie into his mouth, unconcerned.

“Did it hurt you when you saw Sitwell and Rumlow on Friday?” Nick asked, frowning at the way Peter’s mouth was suddenly much too full for a little guy. “Don’t answer that until you’ve swallowed.”

Peter nodded, his expression not as cheerful, but it was hard to be afraid when you had Nick Fury and Ironman next to you – and you had a mouthful of Oreo cookie. He chewed and cleared his mouth.

“Yes. And when I met them at the compound,” he added.

He and JARVIS had discussed that, the other night, when the AI had brought up the topic.

“So you knew something was wrong?” Nick asked.

“No. I mean, maybe.” Peter shrugged. “I just knew my stomach hurt and it didn’t feel good.”

“Did it hurt, later?” Tony asked. “When we were in the truck talking to Natasha about your Mars project?”

He’d been worried about Peter’s arm, and his face – and his own general panic – so he hadn’t asked if anything else was wrong.

“I don’t remember,” Peter said. He hesitated, trying to think back. Last Friday was a blur of a million different things. “I don’t think so. But my arm hurt, a lot, so maybe.”

“Does it hurt, now?” Nick asked.

“No.” The boy smiled, reaching for another cookie. “Tony said it might be a super power.”

Fury shrugged, but he was studying Peter carefully as he pulled the Oreo apart to eat the white stuff in the middle.

“It might be, at that. I want you to pay attention to when it hurts, for me, and we’ll start keeping track.”

“Like an experiment?”

“ _Exactly_ like one,” Tony said. “If it starts to hurt, I want you to pay attention to what’s going on around you – and tell someone, immediately.”

“Not just _any_ someone,” Nick corrected. “Tony, or someone who knows what else you can do. Not a teacher, or a classmate. Understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“I’m going to see a shrink.”

If the SHIELD director was surprised by the change of topic, he didn’t allow it to show.

“A _shrink_? Or a psychologist?”

“The second one.”

“Not because he’s crazy,” Tony said – more for Peter’s benefit than for Nick’s. He and Fury had already had this discussion, too. “So that he has an outlet if he needs it.”

“Smart,” Fury told him. “We have a couple of psychologists assigned to SHIELD, too.”

“You do?” Peter asked, impressed. “Really?”

“As stressful as our job is? Of course.”

“Do _you_ talk to them?”

Tony raised an eyebrow at Peter’s question, but Nick simply nodded.

“No sense paying them if we don’t use them. Including me.”

“Wow. Do they have a couch?”

“No.”

“Do they swing a watch in front of your face, to make you fall asleep?”

Stark snorted, but Nick shook his head with an amused expression in his eye.

“Nope. None of that. It’s all for TV. The dude just has an office – kind of like your dad’s, here – and we hang out and talk.”

“About what?”

“If you’re going to be in the robotics lab when your classmates get here,” Tony interrupted, smoothly. “You’d better start eating.”

“Okay.”

Peter shoved another cookie in his mouth and Stark smirked at Nick, who shrugged and took another cookie, too.

Who needed Natasha to do interrogations when they had an eight-year-old?


	119. 119

“What are you doing?”

Tony looked away from the display on his desk long enough to make sure it was only Pepper who had entered his office.

“Shhh. I’m watching Peter and his classmates work on their rover project,” he said, quietly.

She frowned.

“Why are you _whispering_?”

That made him frown, too.

“I’m not supposed to be helping.”

“You’re _spying_ on them,” she pointed out. “That isn’t really helping, is it?”

“It is not,” he agreed. “Unless I am taking notes on what they are doing wrong and then happen to accidentally drop them in conversation with Peter over dinner, tonight – or at bedtime.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t say it like _that_ ,” he said. “It’s not – _technically_ – helping. Just offering some differing observations on what they might do differently.”

She looked at the display, watching as the four students standing at the worktable in the robotics lab discussed the various components in front of them. Well, three students were standing at the table; Peter was kneeling on a chair so he could see everything, as well. It really gave a person the perspective of just how much younger he was than the young people he went to school with.

“He’s so _little_ …”

Tony looked at the display, too. And he smiled, proudly.

“Yes, he is. But I’ve been watching him interacting with them – and the way that they are treating him. He’s smart and they know it, and they’re willing to listen to his ideas despite his age. It’s impressive, really.”

“Because you wouldn’t have when you were that age, would you?”

“I didn’t listen to _anyone_ when I was that age,” he confirmed. “I knew more than everyone, and I was comfortable with that knowledge.”

“How did you get through group projects like this?”

“I _avoided_ them.”

Pepper frowned.

“Didn’t that make you fail the assignment?”

“Usually.” His expression was smug, despite himself. “But I was so much smarter than everyone around me that it didn’t matter. Still got an A.”

“Tony…”

“I’m not saying that will work for Peter,” he was quick to add. “That’s why I’m all for this group project. He _should_ be getting good at working with others.”

“It’ll make him a better Avenger?”

Stark smiled, looking back at the screen.

“Probably. But it’ll make him a better _person_ , too, and that’s my goal, really. If he saves the world that’s gravy.”

Her expression softened.

“That’s so sweet.”

Which, of course, made him scowl and immediately try to change the subject.

“Did you _need_ something? Or did you just come in here to spread estrogen all over my office?”

She smirked.

“I was wondering what you guys had planned next weekend.”

“Because…?”

“Because Ellen Anderson – who is your _VPO_ , in case I have to remind you – inherited some property from her father out in the woods – on a lake. A hunting cabin. She’s spent the last several months fixing it up.”

“You want to go hunting?”

“She’s selling it,” Pepper told him, more amused than annoyed by the interruption. “I was thinking I’d go spend the weekend there and see if it would make a good weekend retreat. But then I thought that I might like some company and that it might be something Peter enjoyed. What do you think?”

“A weekend in the boonies?”

“Yes.”

“This place has electricity? An indoor bathroom?”

“That’s my understanding.”

“Yeah, he’d probably love it. You do realize we’re a boxed set, right? He goes, that means I come, too?”

“That’s my understanding,” she agreed. “Don’t be an ass and I’ll be happy to have you along, too.”

Stark’s expression turned shocked.

“Miss Potts… such language.”

“Are you interested? I need to make arrangements.”

“Of course. How many bedrooms are we looking at? One for us? One for Peter?”

She smiled, understanding that he was flirting, but only partially serious.

“One for me – the _master_ bedroom,” she added. “And one for Peter and one for you. Unless you want the doghouse, instead. Or the couch.”

“Is there really a doghouse?”

“No.”

“I’ll ask him,” Tony told her. “But I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say that he’ll be excited by the idea. How far away is it?”

“An hour or so drive. We’ll figure out the details, later. I need to get back to work and you need to get back to spying on your son.”

“Not spying,” Tony corrected. “Discreetly helping…”

“Uh huh.”

“Thank you for the invitation.”

She smiled and left, and Stark turned his attention back to the display.

><><><><><>

It was almost time for them to finish for the day when there was a knock on the door to the robotics workroom. The three teens were clearly thrilled when Tony poked his head into the room, looking at them, expectantly.

“How’s it going?”

“Great,” one of the boys – the oldest of the group – told him. “This place is amazing, Mr. Stark. Thanks for letting us use it.”

“You’re welcome.” Tony walked over to stand by the table, next to Peter’s chair, but close enough to the others to make them that much more excited. “This looks pretty good…”

‘It’s a great design,” Allison (the only girl in the group) told him. “We’re so going to get an A.”

“How long until you make it go?”

“We’ll have it done next time we meet to work on it,” was the reply.

“It’s due Friday?”

Peter nodded.

“We were thinking we could meet again on Thursday to finish it.”

The three older kids had volunteered Peter to ask the billionaire to let them finish the project on Thursday, and Peter didn’t mind. It made sense, since he was most comfortable with him, of course.

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll talk to your folks when they come to get you.”

_“They are arriving in the lobby, now,”_ JARVIS pointed out, making the kids murmur, excitedly, at the casual way such incredible tech was showcased. _“Allison’s father is here to get Alan, as well.”_

“How did it know that?” the girl asked, curiously.

“They check in with the receptionist desk,” Stark reminded her with a slight smile. “JARVIS is hardwired into the security system, so he can overhear what’s being said.”

“That’s amazing.”

Tony nodded his agreement, but he didn’t respond to the compliment. He knew it was incredible tech and didn’t need validation from a seventeen year old. The look Peter was giving him was plenty. He tousled his son’s hair, smiling down at him before looking at the others.

“Get everything squared away and I’ll meet you at the elevator. Peter can show you.”

The boy nodded, and the other kids echoed the motion. Tony left, but as the door was closing behind him, the billionaire heard one of the boys telling Peter that he was a lucky kid. And Peter voicing his agreement. Which made Tony smile.

“JARVIS? Advise the lobby that we’ll have the kids down there in ten minutes. Make sure the parents get offered some coffee or something while they wait.”

_“Will do.”_

He headed for his office to get Peter’s things together, so they could leave, too.

><><><><><>

The drive home was filled with conversation about the rover project. Mainly it was Peter telling Tony about the progress that his group were making, and Tony listening as intently as if it was all new information – and as if he hadn’t been lurking in the background and watching security feeds all afternoon. He didn’t make any suggestions, just then; he simply enjoyed the fact that the boy he’d adopted was brilliant enough that the suggestions that he might toss out, later, were simple ones. Peter and the intelligent kids that were in on his project were doing fine without his feedback. It was only the perfectionist in Stark that was thinking of ways that the thing could be better – and he was honest enough with himself to admit that he wanted Peter’s project to outshine all the others in the class.

When they pulled into the garage and stopped the car, Tony changed the subject to one that he was certain was going to be just as interesting to Peter.

“Pepper asked me what we had planned for this weekend,” he said as they walked through the garage door and into the kitchen, stopping long enough to allow Peter to greet JARVIS like he did every time they arrived home.

“What did you tell her?” the boy asked, setting his backpack on the table and sloughing out of his coat. His eyes were excited, as if he knew Tony wouldn’t be brining it up if it wasn't something fun. “Are we going to the compound?”

“We _could_ …” Stark replied. “But they’re still working on their secret SHIELD project, so Natasha and Clint aren’t there – and Steve and the others could be called away to help out, any time. We might be better off not making plans with them until they finish their assignment.”

Peter hadn’t considered that, but after a moment, he nodded.

“What, then?”

“I told her that we were a couple of bachelors, and had a big, new house, and maybe we’d…”

He trailed off, which made Peter smile.

“Yeah…?”

“ _Vacuum_ all weekend.”

The boy groaned, theatrically.

“No…”

“Not interested?”

Peter shook his head, smiling.

“No.”

He picked his son up and settled him on the island.

“She’s going to check out a cabin in the woods that she’s thinking about buying, and invited us along for the weekend.”

Not surprisingly, his eyes lit up.

“Really?”

“Yup. I know it sounds like the start of half the horror movies ever filmed, but we’d probably be alright. What do you think? Should I tell her that we’re interested?”

“Yeah.” Peter hugged himself, excitedly. “Can we go sledding?”

“I’ve never been there, buddy,” Tony admitted, smiling. “We’ll have to wait and see if there are any hills.”

“Can we take a sled? Just in case?”

“It’s Pepper’s trip,” he replied. “We’ll ask her what she thinks.”

“Okay.” Peter smiled. “Wow.”

“I’ll tell her that you are on board.”

“Are you going to call her, tonight?”

“Nope. It isn’t fair for me to call her after she works hard all day and sees me half the time she’s there. If she calls us, that’s one thing. This can wait until tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He was disappointed, but he understood. Kind of. Besides, he was hungry, and Tony was already turning toward the fridge, opening it.

“Grilled cheese and tomato soup?”

“Yeah.”


	120. 120

Wednesday afternoon, Peter walked into Tony’s office at his usual time. He waved goodbye to Maria, who nodded a greeting to Stark but didn’t stay for small talk – which was completely normal for the SHIELD agent. She liked Peter, but she rarely stayed around after delivering him to the tower, knowing that he was eager to spend time with Tony, or go to daycare – or both.

Today was a little different, though. Tony was on a conference call when the boy went over to his desk, stopping only long enough to drop off his backpack. He didn’t rush up to him like he wanted to, in deference to the conversation that he was having, but he was pleasantly surprised when he saw the image of the person his father was talking to – and she seemingly noticed him at the same time.

“Natasha!”

Romanoff smiled, watching as Peter climbed into Tony’s lap with a well timed boost.

_“Hey, sweetheart,”_ the assassin greeted him. _“How was school?”_

“Good.” Peter shifted, turning around in Tony’s lap for a few moments, bony knees catching the billionaire in the thigh and then the groin as Peter positioned himself so he was facing the display and Tony brought an arm around him from behind to hold him steady – and _still_ – rolling his eyes when Natasha smirked at the cavalier treatment of one of the most powerful men on the planet. “Are you home?”

_“Not, yet,”_ she told the boy. _“Clint and I are still on special assignment with some of the others.”_

“Is he there?”

_“He will be. Tell me what you’re up to.”_

“Pepper is taking me and Tony to the _boonies_ this weekend.”

She’d heard that from Stark before Peter had arrived, but smiled at the boy’s phrasing, because it was clear that he’d picked it up from Tony.

_“The boonies, huh? Are you camping in tents?”_

Peter leaned back against Tony’s chest, grinning.

“No. It’s too cold. There’s a cabin. It’s on a lake, and it has a lot of trees, and some deer, sometimes, and there’s a fireplace, and the room I’m going to stay in has _bunkbeds_!”

_“Are you sharing a room with your dad?”_ Natasha asked. _“Does he get to have the bottom bunk?”_

“He has his own room.” Peter had seen a few pictures of the cabin and the surrounding area. Pepper had shown them to him – including the bunkbeds in the bedroom that the boy would be sleeping in. “I get to decide if I want to sleep on the top or the bottom.”

_“Wow.”_

The boy nodded.

“I’ve never been on top. Have you?”

There was a soft snort of amusement in Peter’s ear as Tony reacted to the question, his grip tightening, slightly, on Peter.

“Yes, Agent Romanoff,” the billionaire said to the display. “ _Have_ you been on top?”

_“Several times,”_ she replied, blandly, her expression cheerful, although Peter had a feeling he was missing something. _“You’ll want to be careful not to fall off.”_

“I won’t,” Peter assured her. “Besides, I _stick_ , remember?”

_“Good point. What else have you been doing? How is your Mars project coming?”_

“We’re almost done. The others are coming, tomorrow after school, to finish it. We turn it in on Friday.”

As Peter launched into a detailed explanation of the progress that had been made, Clint joined the call, moving into the camera area so he could see Peter and Tony, and they could see him. He listened just as intently as Natasha did, and even asked a couple of questions that proved he was just a grunt, but was pretty intelligent when he wanted people to know it.

_“Sounds like you’re doing well,”_ Romanoff said. _“No stomach aches, recently?”_

“No.” Peter shook his head. “I’m okay.”

_“Good. We need to go take care of some things. You be good and take care of your dad for us.”_

“I will.”

“Call me later,” Stark said over Peter’s shoulder. “I have some more questions for you.”

_“I will.”_

She ended the call, and Peter looked up at Tony.

“They’re okay?”

“They’re fine. You saw them. Natasha and Clint work well, together. They’ll be back before you know it.” He hugged the boy and then set him on his feet so he could take a different chair. While Peter scrambled into one, Tony put out cookies and found a carton of chocolate milk from the mini fridge. “How was school? Anything I need to know about?”

He knew there couldn’t be anything too serious, or he’d have heard about it from Phil or Maria. But what SHIELD thought was worth telling him, and what _Peter_ thought was important were sometimes very different.

“It was fun. We played dodgeball in PE.”

Tony frowned.

“They’re making you play?”

“I _get_ to play,” Peter agreed. “It’s fun. They throw balls at you, and you try to dodge them – or catch them. Then the person that threw it is out.”

“Did you catch any?”

“No. They don’t throw a lot my way. I think they’re afraid of hurting me.”

“Or they’re afraid you’ll catch the ball,” Tony said, although he was sure that Peter was correct – and he was relieved.

That made the boy look happy, and he took a cookie from the plate.

“It’s fun. What did _you_ do?”

They talked for a few long minutes while Peter had his snack, and Tony mentally congratulated himself for being such a genius to have this time with the boy after school. Never mind that it had initially been Pepper’s idea; he was good at taking credit for the brilliant things she thought up, sometimes. It was a good chance for Peter to wind down after school and before daycare, and a chance for Tony (especially now) to reassure himself that the boy hadn’t taken any harm being out of his sight for part of the day.

A win – win for both of them.

By the time Tony walked Peter to the elevator to deliver him to daycare, the conversation had switched back over to the weekend excursion – again. It was clear that Peter was looking forward to it, and Tony was, too, he had to admit.

><><><><><>

_“Incoming call from Ned.”_

Peter’s eyes lit up. Not only because his friend was calling, but because JARVIS had sounded so cool when he’d announced it – and it had been directed at _him_ , rather than at Tony. Stark smiled when he saw Peter’s expression change, and he was glad that he’d thought to provide Ned with a cell phone that could support the video conferencing so his son could be face to face with his friend, even when they were just on the phone.

“Put him through, JARVIS,” Tony replied, since Peter actually wasn't sure what to say, next.

A moment later Ned’s cheerful face was looking at them from the display in the game room.

_“Hey, Peter. Hey Mr. Stark.”_

“Hi, Ned,” Peter replied, even as Tony waved a greeting. He could see Eric in the background of the video feed, sitting on the couch close by, but playing a board game with a couple of the boys. “How are you?”

_“Good. We’re going to the movies, Saturday, and I wanted to see if you wanted to come.”_

Peter smiled at the invitation.

“I can’t. We’re going to the boonies with Pepper, this weekend.”

Ned frowned.

_“Where’s that?”_

“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “Somewhere in the woods. In a cabin. There’s _bunkbeds_.”

_“Wow.”_

“Right?”

_“We can do the movie another time, Peter,”_ Eric said, proving that he’d been listening to the conversation.

“Okay. Thanks.” Peter grinned at Ned. “Guess what? On Monday I’m not going to _school_.”

_“Why not?”_

“Monday is _doctor day_.”

_“What does that mean?”_

“I have a doctor appointment to meet my new pediologist.”

“Pediatrician,” Tony corrected, absently.

Proving he was listening to the conversation, too.

“Pediatrician,” Peter echoed. “And then I go see a kid shrink.”

_“Why?”_ Ned asked, eyes widening. _“Did you do something crazy?”_

“No. I don’t think so. Just because Tony and Pepper want me to talk to him.”

_“About what?”_

“Anything I want to.”

_“Oh.”_ Ned shrugged that off. _“Did you finish your rover project?”_

“We will, tomorrow, and turn it in on Friday. It’s amazing.”

The rest of the conversation went on and on about the rover that Peter’s group had designed and were still building, and Tony noted with satisfaction that the questions Ned asked were intelligent and well thought out. Ned was a smart little boy, too.

When they finally ended the conversation and the screen went dark, the billionaire reached out and tousled his son’s hair.

“You could go to the movies with Ned and Eric,” he said. “If you really want to. Pepper would understand.”

A fun time with a kid his own age instead of hanging with adults?

Peter shook his head, though.

“I want to go to the boonies. It’s going to be fun.”

They’d already established that there weren’t any sledding hills, but that wasn't the end of the world. There were a lot of trees, and Peter would take some toys to keep himself occupied if there wasn't anything for him to do, otherwise.

“I think so, too.” He shooed the boy away with a flourish. “Go get ready for bed.”

“Okay.”


	121. 121

Thursday was a busy day.

Not the beginning of the day, but everything after school. A special change in protocol had the kids from Peter’s group project riding back to the tower with Peter, Maria and Phil – also followed by another SUV with SHIELD agents that the students (including Peter) were unaware of. They were greeted by Tony, but there wasn't any time for an afternoon snack, as they were all eager to get to the robotics lab and finish their rover.

Tony didn’t want to be a distraction, so he forced himself to leave them to it, but when they were done, he was the first one in the room. The kids set their miniature rover on the floor and to their great delight, it reacted to all the commands they gave it through the radio control system that they’d created.

“That’s really impressive,” Stark told them, admiringly.

Which had made all four of the students preen – and Peter had hugged himself, excitedly.

“Definitely an A,” one of the older boys had said, looking almost awed at their success.

So pleased that for the moment, they were more impressed by their rover than the fact that they were in the same room as Tony Stark.

That didn’t last long, though, because Tony gave them enough time to enjoy their creation and box it into a special transport crate – a little bigger than a shoebox, which gave them an appreciation for how little their machine was – and then offered to show them all his new suit. As a little treat to congratulate them for their project being finished. All of them jumped at the idea of getting a first-hand look at the Ironman suit, even Peter, who had better access than the rest of the world, really.

They spent the time waiting for their parents to arrive in the lobby watching Stark explain the special mechanisms that allowed his suit to activate over his clothing, and even gave them a peek at the newest one that was being created – although he didn’t allow any of them to know any of the new tech he’d developed for it. Peter was one thing, of course, but three kids who probably didn’t have ties to the tech world but who knew? Nope. The addition of Peter in his life was softening his outlook, he knew, but not that much.

When his classmates had all been picked up, and arrangements had been made for the rover to be delivered to the school the next morning, Tony took his son out to eat at the restaurant of his choice – as a special treat. Not because he’d forgotten to take any chicken out to thaw and that would have meant they had sandwiches for dinner. Or pop tarts.

They went to McDonald’s which wasn't too surprising, since it was Peter who chose their destination, but they ended up getting it to go. The playland was closed, anyway, and one of the cashiers in the lobby had eyed Tony with an awed expression that silently told him that she’d recognized him (or Peter?) and they weren’t going to have any chance of eating inside in peace and quiet.

Better to eat at home, where they would be surrounded by all their amusements. And besides, they had other things to do that evening.

“I want you to be packed for the weekend,” Tony told Peter when the boy was finished with his meal and was sucking air through his straw as he wiggled it along the bottom of the paper cup, trying to get every last drop of chocolate from it. “That way we can leave as soon as you get out of school.”

Peter nodded.

“Okay. You’ll help me?”

“I fully intend to, yes,” he was assured. Stark got to his feet, gathering their garbage as he did so he could toss it into the trash. “Go get your bag out and put it on your bed, and I’ll be right there.”

The boy jumped to his feet, too, and hurried off to his bedroom.

“JARVIS? Any weird weather expected out by this new place this weekend?”

_“Nothing, sir. Sunny skies, but cold.”_

“Thanks.”

Now he knew what to pack.

><><><><><

“So your teacher was impressed?”

Peter grinned, excitedly, and nodded.

“Yeah. We’ll get a good grade.”

“Will they send it to Mars?” Pepper asked.

“No.” The boy was too happy to be upset at that. “It isn’t that good. But it’s good.”

“It’s great,” Tony assured him. “And, even better, now you’re free to enjoy the whole weekend without worrying about what kind of grade you’re going to get. Right?”

“Probably be an A,” Peter said.

“Definitely.” Tony hugged him, even though Peter didn’t need the reassurance. Then he looked at Pepper. “Are you ready?”

“I am.” She looked at Peter. “My SUV is loaded, already. Tony put your stuff in it and his, and we just need to stop at a grocery store and pick up the fresh foods that we couldn’t pack in advance. Are you bringing your backpack?”

It had his schoolwork in it, but even she knew that the real treasures were all in the safe back at the house.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get going, then,” Stark said, setting Peter down. “Grab your coat, buddy.”

“Yay!”

Peter did as he was told, slipping back into the coat that he’d taken off only twenty minutes, earlier, when he’d arrived at Tony’s office.

Pepper smiled at the show of excitement that never got old, really, and looked at Tony.

“I need to stop at my office and get my coat, too.”

“We’ll come with you.”

><><><><><>

They stopped at a small grocery store on the edge of the city, conveniently located on the way out of town. They needed milk (chocolate for Peter, and low fat for Pepper), eggs, butter, fruits and some last minute snacks for the road. Peter was buckled back into his seat in the back of Pepper’s car, but now he was munching, happily, on licorice.

Tony loaded the groceries in the back cargo area with the rest of the supplies needed for a simple weekend getaway in the middle of nowhere, and now he was the one to get behind the wheel, giving Pepper a break from driving, and allowing her to be the navigator.

“That way it’s her fault if we get lost,” Tony explained to Peter, who grinned at the way she rolled her eyes in response to the statement.

Peter didn’t care who drove.

Pepper was able to turn in her seat, though, and chat with him as they made their way out of the many small suburbs and into a heavily forested area that gave way only to the two laned road that wended through the trees. The roads were clear; it hadn’t snowed in days and had been plowed, and then treated to some sunlight filtering through them. Enough that everything was bare and dry, which allowed Tony the chance to join in on the conversation, as well.

Since Peter had already nagged Pepper relentlessly the past few days for all the information she had about the cabin, the discussion was more focused on how everyone’s day had gone. Peter had already told both adults about his project and how well it had been received, so the conversation went to the meetings that Pepper and Tony had had that day.

A conversation that Peter fell asleep during. Proving, once again, that he didn’t stay awake on long car rides, no matter what amount of sugar was coursing through his system. Pepper’s expression was amused when she realized that the comments from the back seat were fewer and further between, and she watched as the boy gave up conversing, entirely, and drifted off, lulled by the powerful engine and the voices of the two adults who were still discussing one of the more colorful people they’d met with, earlier.

“He didn’t last too long.”

Tony verified that with a glance in the rearview mirror, and he shook his head.

“All the better to stay up late, tonight, and drive us crazy.”

Pepper didn’t look too concerned.


	122. 122

He woke when the car came to a stop, and looked around, confused. And then his eyes widened.

“We’re here?”

Tony nodded, turning off the engine.

“Yeah. Are you awake?”

Peter nodded, reaching for his seatbelt.

“Yes.” He looked outside, again. “Wow. It’s _neat_.”

Tony didn’t, necessarily, disagree.

It wasn't large – at least not on the outside. The wood it was made from resembled – or might actually be – logs, so it looked like a log cabin. There was a front porch that became a deck that went all the way around the building, two large windows that looked out onto the porch, and a railing that went along the deck. The steep roof was testimony that the area received a lot of snowfall, potentially, but the drifts weren’t too bad, just then.

There was a tire swing hanging from a large branch of a tree on the side of the place, and the glint of the fading sunlight came from the frozen expanse of water that was the lake behind the building.

“There are some ground rules,” Stark told the boy before Peter could open his door.

“Okay.”

“No going outside without one of us with you.”

“Okay.”

“No wandering off.”

“Right.”

Those were pretty much the same rules he had everywhere else, really.

“Don’t go near the water without us. The lake is iced over, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe to walk on. If I catch you out there, we’re going home, immediately – it’s that dangerous. Understood?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah.”

He wouldn’t do anything to get Tony mad at him.

“No bringing snow inside,” Pepper added.

“Oh.” Peter hadn’t thought of that one. “What if we want to melt some?”

“Why would we do that?” Tony asked, curiously.

“If we run out of water and want to take a bath. That’s how the pioneers did it.”

“We are neither going to run out of water, or pretend to be pioneers,” his father assured him. “No snow in the cabin, unless it’s on our clothes. Got it?”

“Yes.”

Tony looked at Pepper.

“Anything else you can think of?”

“Don’t feed the wildlife.”

“Don’t even get _close_ to the wildlife,” Stark added.

Peter smiled.

“Okay.”

Tony made a motion with his hand, telling the boy he could open the door.

“Out you go. But don’t go anywhere. You can help unload the car.”

Peter nodded, opening his door and hopping out, looking around, excitedly when he did.

“There’s the swing.”

“You can try it, later, if you want.”

“I do.”

Tony looked at Pepper.

“Of course, he does.”

She smiled at that.

“I want to try it, too.”

“I’ll push you both.”

They got out but rather than head for the back of the car, Tony and Pepper led Peter up the stairs of the porch and the boy scurried by them to stand at one of the windows, trying to look in as Pepper pulled a key from her pocket.

“It’s _big_ ,” Peter observed.

Pepper unlocked the door and Tony reached a hand out to stop her before she could walk through.

“What?” she asked, curiously.

“Haven't you ever watched a horror movie involving a lonely cabin in the woods?” he asked, reaching for the door knob and carefully turning it. “There’s always a crazy ax wielding murderer in a scary mask hiding behind the door waiting to club the first person that walks through.”

“Are you _trying_ to give your son nightmares?” she asked, amused.

“I’m just trying to make sure we live to get home,” Tony told her.

He opened the door with a hard push, jumping into the foyer of the cabin with a challenging yell, and looked behind the door.

“Well?” Pepper asked.

“It’s safe.”

“I could see behind the door from the window,” Peter pointed out as he followed Pepper into the cabin. “There wasn't anyone there.”

“You can never be too careful.” Tony looked around. “This is as nice as the pictures made it look.”

The place wasn't fancy, but it was nice. And cozy. The fireplace had a big rocky hearth and a screen to keep the wood from popping burning embers onto the warm rug in front of it, or the couch that was even further back. There was a rustic kitchen (with a dishwasher, luckily) all the usual appliances and a comfortable sized wooden table with four chairs around it. Several doorways led from the main room, and Peter looked around, excitedly.

“Can I go find my room?”

“Yeah.”

Tony followed. Not because he was worried about people hiding in the shadows, now, but because he was curious to look around, too. The master bedroom was big, with a large bed, dresser, and a TV on the wall. It also had an attached bathroom. The other two bedrooms didn’t have TVs and didn’t have their own bathrooms. But Peter’s did have bunkbeds.

“Wow!” The boy climbed up the ladder on the side and got onto the top bunk. “I’m going to sleep up here, tonight.”

Pepper hesitated, looking over at Tony, but the billionaire didn’t look too concerned.

“Does he stick when he’s sleeping, too?” she asked.

“No clue,” he admitted. “But there’s a rail for a reason, right?” He walked over and held his arms out to the boy. “Let’s get the car unloaded before it gets dark.”

The sun was already setting, despite the time of day, and it would be dark, soon.

Peter jumped into Tony’s arms, giggling when the man caught him, easily, and then flipped him upside down for a moment before setting him on his feet.

“Okay.”

><><><><><>

Again it was Peter who carried most of the items into the cabin, and again it wasn't because Tony was too lazy to do it. He was just always amazed by how much weight he could load the boy up with before Peter simply couldn’t carry anymore on account of the load being too bulky.

“How much do you think he can lift?” Pepper asked Tony as they watched Peter walk carefully up the steps carrying all of the plastic grocery bags and his backpack draped over a shoulder.

“They stopped the experiment at a thousand pounds,” Stark replied, reaching for her bag, as well as his and Peter’s. She reached for a couple of reusable shopping bags that held random items. “But I bet he couldn’t have done twice that.”

“A ton? Really?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

They walked up to the porch and inside, just in time to see Peter set all the groceries on the table and then drop his backpack on the floor.

“Any more?” the boy asked, not looking at all worn down by the heavy load.

“Nope.” Tony smiled. “Go get unpacked.”

Peter left them in a hurry, and Pepper smiled, looking around.

“This is a pretty nice place, isn’t it?”

“Yes. It was a hunting cabin?”

“Yes. She said that she had all the taxidermy animals hanging on the walls taken down.”

“I like it. If _you_ don’t buy it, maybe I will.”

“I saw it, first.”

“I know.” He smirked. “If you buy it, then Peter and I can mooch it from you for weekend getaways – and I don’t have to worry about the upkeep.”

Which made Pepper shake her head, her expression amused.

“Or… maybe I bring Peter up here, but leave you at home to play with your Ironman suits…”

“We’re a set,” he told her. “I’m pretty sure I said that, before.”

“You might have.”

“It’s still true.”

“Hmm…” she feigned annoyance, and then shrugged. “I’ll see what he says. Maybe I’ll decorate the place in _Batman_ …”

“Cute.”

“Yes.” Pepper smiled, pleased as always when she found a topic that she knew wasn't his favorite and was able to dig at him with it. Peter’s love of all things Batman was a constant source of amusement to her – especially since Tony loved Peter enough that he’d never let on that _he_ didn’t love Batman, too. “Help me put the groceries away, and I’ll make dinner.”

“Fair.”

The menu wasn't going to be complicated. Especially since they’d been told that they needed to bring all their food with them. The cabin had all the amenities needed; cooking utensils, appliances, dishes, bedding and everything that a place in the woods needed in order to be self-sustaining, but it didn’t have food. Mainly because even canned goods would eventually become outdated, and the owner hadn’t actually used the cabin more than twice since she’d inherited it.

Peter joined them in time to help Tony finish putting away the canned items that they’d brought (mostly stew, soup, and canned meat, like chicken and tuna) and then offered to help Pepper make dinner. She accepted and they shooed Tony out of the kitchen to go start a fire in the fireplace, while Pepper put the little boy to work opening cans of beef stew and she put some rolls in the oven to warm up.

“No salad?” Peter asked, when he realized that she wasn't making anything green to go with the meal.

“No. _Someone_ forgot to put it in the cart at the grocery store…”

Since she glanced over at Tony, who was apparently ignoring them in favor of setting kindling on fire, Peter knew who she was talking about.

“We don’t need salad,” the boy assured her. “Look, there’s carrots in this stew.”

She looked, but didn’t appear to be mollified.

“That’s going to have to do, I suppose.”


	123. 123

When they were done eating, Tony sent Peter to go change and get ready for bed while he and Pepper cleaned up the kitchen.

“It’s still early, though,” Peter pointed out. “ _And_ it’s Friday.”

“But you will fall asleep in the middle of whatever we are doing, and then I’ll have to try to dress you in your pajamas while you’re a limp noodle – which is _impossible_. Go change, and you can choose what game we play.”

“I can?”

“Sure.”

There weren’t a lot of options, after all, and Tony liked them all.

“Okay.”

The boy left and Pepper hid her smile. Not well enough, though, because the billionaire saw it.

“Something amusing?”

“He’s cute when he’s being stubborn.”

“Cute _now_ ,” Tony agreed. “Wait until he’s sixteen. Then he won’t be so adorable.”

“We’ll see.” She rinsed out the pot they’d used to heat up the chili and handed him the last of the dishes to put into the washer. “I’m going to go change into something more comfortable, too.”

Stark nodded, and forced himself not to make a smart-assed comment about her options. It would have come out as wildly inappropriate, and Peter might overhear. Or she might be annoyed. Both were things to avoid, really. He was thoroughly enjoying Pepper’s company, lately, and the way that the woman was much more relaxed with him – and didn’t even look all that disappointed when she glanced his direction.

It was nice, and he didn’t want to mess it up.

“I’ll finish this and meet you both in the living room.”

><><><><

They spent the evening playing Sorry, which was a game that wasn't too complicated and that Peter liked playing – even though he felt a little guilty every time he sent one of the others’ game pieces back to their starting spot. The cabin was warm – there was electric heat as well as the warmth that the fireplace gave off, and since they were playing at the coffee table in front of it and Peter was sitting on the floor (on the plushy rug) in front of the fire, he was comfortable, despite the knowledge that it was very cold outside.

They played more than one game, but it was Tony who finally called a halt to the evening. He was _tired_ , he said, and he wanted to be rested for whatever the next day was going to bring. Peter hadn’t really been ready to stop, but when Pepper agreed with Tony, it was two against one and he knew that he wasn't going to be able to talk them into staying up much later.

“We didn’t have _dessert_ …” he pointed out, trying to gain a little more time.

“I’m not going to pump you full of sugar right before bed,” Tony told him, scooping him up into his arms and clearly not fooled by the ploy. “Besides, you already brushed your teeth.”

“I could brush them, again,” Peter said, reasonably, smiling when Tony pretended to drop him, but caught him at the last minute. “It wouldn’t take long.”

“We’ll have s’mores, tomorrow.”

“ _Pepper_ might want dessert, tonight.”

It was his last chance.

Both of them looked over at her, and she held up her hands with a smile, and shook her head.

“Oh, no. I’m not going to get in the middle of this conversation.”

Peter groaned, theatrically, and found himself being passed over to her.

“Tell Pepper goodnight, son.”

He hugged her as hard as he dared and buried his face in her neck.

“Goodnight, Pepper.”

He felt her hug him back, and she kissed his cheek, which made him feel warmer than even the fire had made him.

“Goodnight, Peter. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He was handed back to Tony, and he turned himself upside down in his father’s arms while he was carried into his room.

“Are you _really_ going to sleep on the top bunk?” Stark asked.

“Yeah.”

The billionaire deposited the boy on the top bunk and watched as Peter got himself under the blankets.

“Don’t fall off.”

Peter smiled.

“I won’t.”

“I love you, Peter Stark.”

“I love you, too, Tony Stark.”

A kiss goodnight, and Tony left, turning off the light behind him before closing the door.

Peter didn’t fall asleep, immediately, but the blankets were warm, and he’d had a pretty long day. Eventually, he drifted off, even while trying to think of other arguments that he could have used to stay up, later.

><<><><

Pepper was putting the game board and pieces back in the box when Tony returned to the living room. She looked up when he walked over.

“No arguments?”

“He’s tired,” Tony told her. “He just won’t admit it.”

“He’s so fun.”

“That, he is.” Tony settled back on the sofa with a tired sigh. “This was a good idea.”

“I have them, occasionally.” She was sitting close enough to him that she could reach out and touch his arm. “You adopting him was a _good_ idea. I know I wasn't completely for it, at the time, but you were definitely right. He’s good for you – and you’re good for him.”

“I love him more than I ever thought I could love anyone. Isn't that crazy? He’s not mine, biologically, but it doesn’t matter.”

He was tired enough to allow himself to open up a little more than he liked to – even with her.

“It isn’t crazy, at all.” She smiled. “Besides, he’s a lot like you – only _tinier_. It’s no wonder you love him.”

Stark rolled his eyes at the implication that he loved Peter because he reminded him of himself – and everyone knew how much he loved himself. She was teasing him, though, and he liked that she was willing.

“Maybe.”

“Probably.”

It was definitely time to lighten the mood, he decided, feeling that if he shared any more feelings, he was going to need a drink. He knew the quickest way to change the tone of their conversation and get her to roll her eyes at him, or maybe annoyed with him just enough that they could go back to discussing work, or the stock market, or pretty much anything that wasn't feelings.

“Want to make out?”

Sure enough, she smiled, but he knew that she was smart enough to see beyond the words to the intent. Her expression changed, and her intelligent eyes softened, a little.

“Maybe.”

“Really?”

“No.”

Now it was Tony who groaned, theatrically.

“Cruel woman…”

Pepper’s laugh was soft and throaty, and she leaned forward and kissed him. It was sweet, and tender, and completely unexpected. He was certain that the unexpected part was why it took his breath away. Before he could react, she leaned back, breaking the contact.

“I’m going to go to bed.”

To his credit, he didn’t ask her if he could join her. He did, however, take her hand and pull her back toward him so he could steal another kiss, and this one was a little longer.

“Good night, Pep.”

She smiled.

“Night, Tony. We’re not having s’mores for breakfast,” she added. “In case he asks.”

“Of course not.”

Lunch, maybe.

He watched her vanish into her bedroom, and then he sat and watched the fire die down, not doing anything more than thinking about the little boy sleeping on the top bunk in the room off to the left, and the woman who was probably sleeping already in the room off to the right. His life was pretty good, he decided, as he finally got up, double checked to make sure the screen was up on the fireplace. He stopped long enough to check on Peter, who was, indeed, asleep, and didn’t seem to be in any danger of falling off the bunkbed, and then he went to bed.

><><><><><>

A quick glance at her watch told Pepper that it was somewhat after midnight when she woke. She lay still for a moment, wondering what had woken her, but didn’t hear anything. It was a new place, she knew, and they were out in the boonies as Tony called it, so she knew there would be all kinds of different noises that could be heard outside.

This sounded closer, though.

She pushed her blankets back and got up, walking out into the living room, but by the light of the mostly dead fire and a small light in the kitchen, she could see that everything looked as it had when she’d gone to bed.

Thinking that Peter might be awake, and maybe nervous about the weird sounds that he would probably be hearing, she quietly opened the door to the boy’s room, but he was asleep, dead to the world – at least for now. Pepper adjusted the blankets that were covering him, forced down the urge to kiss his little cheek, and went back into the living room, closing the door once more behind her.

Then she walked to the door between her room and Peter’s and cracked it open, checking on Tony. She was surprised – somewhat – to see that he was sitting up in his bed, his expression luminated by the light on the stand next to the bed, and his face was lightly sheened with sweat.

“Are you alright?” she asked, softly.

“What?” he nodded. “Yes. I mean… yeah. Of course. Why do you ask?”

She closed the door behind her and walked over. Up close, she could see his eyes were haunted, and tired.

“Nightmare?”

“No. Of course not…” he wiped his forearm along his face, and she saw him tremble. “Why would I have nightmares? So what if someone tried to kidnap my son and take him from me? So what if Romanoff and Clint hadn’t stopped them, I never would have known what happened to him? I-“

“It didn’t happen,” she reminded him, moving onto the bed, and gathering him into her arms before he could tell her that he was fine. “He’s sleeping in the room next to you, and he’s fine.”

“I know,” Tony said, resting his forehead on her shoulder and taking the comfort that she was offering him. “But it was so close, Pep. I almost lost him. I just found him.”

“I know…” She ran her fingers through his hair as she held him. “But you didn’t. He’s fine.”

“But-“

“Shh… he’s _fine_ ,” she repeated. “And so are you. SHIELD was fooled once, but they’re not going to let anything like that happen, again. It’ll never be that close, again. Fury and the others are too good to be tricked more than once. Right?”

“Yeah.”

She held him, feeling his rapid heartbeat slowing to something more normal, and whispering gentle reassurances in his ear as she continued to run her fingers through his hair, calming him. Eventually, he sighed, and it was a release of the anxiety that had woken him.

“Feel better?”

“Yes.” He didn’t let her go, though. “Thank you.”

“Maybe Peter isn’t the only one who should have a doctor day?”

“I don’t need a shrink.”

“Because you aren’t _crazy_ ,” she agreed – although she knew many people would wonder. “But a psychologist might not be a bad idea.”

“I’m not going to go to a-“

“I could have _Peter_ bring it up, if you like?”

He scowled, moving his head back so he could see if she was serious, or not, and could tell that she was.

“You’d use him like that? He’s a _baby_.”

She smiled, and kissed his forehead, amused.

“In a heartbeat.”

How many times had Tony used that boy’s adorable brown eyes against her?

“I’ll think about it…”

“And then you’ll go. Right?”

“Not to the same one Peter’s going to.”

“That’s fine.”

“Fine…”

He grumbled for a moment, and then shifted in her embrace, still holding her – almost the same way Peter was holding the bear that he was sleeping with, and maybe for the same reason. Pepper didn’t mind. She held him, lightly, as he eventually fell asleep, and then, instead of leaving and going back to her own bed, she fell asleep, too.


	124. 124

A weird noise woke Peter.

He woke with a start, like he normally did, and sat up, quickly. The room was dark, but that didn’t really matter to him, because he could see just fine, and knew that whatever he’d heard, it wasn't something in his room with him. No axe-wielding murderers hiding behind his doors, or anything like that. He looked around, though, wishing that his room had a window so he could see if there was something outside. His stomach didn’t hurt, but that didn’t mean there might not be someone with an axe sneaking up on the place, did it?

A little more nervous, now – who wouldn’t be with the thought of having an axe murderer waiting for them to fall back to sleep? – Peter grabbed his bear and hopped off the top bunk, landing lightly on his feet. He left his room and made for the door that led to Tony’s. If anyone could save him from an axe murderer, it was Ironman.

The door opened, silently, and Peter walked over to the bed, but then hesitated when he saw that Tony wasn't the only one in it. Pepper was sleeping beside his father, her head resting on his chest. They weren’t doing it; Peter knew that involved a lot of grunting and banging of headboards – although he didn’t understand why. It also involved being naked, and they were both wearing clothes.

He wondered if Pepper maybe had heard an axe murderer, too.

The boy walked over to Tony’s side of the bed and climbed up onto it.

“Dad?” he whispered, resting his hand on the man’s arm.

“Hmmm?”

Tony didn’t open his eyes.

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Yeah, buddy.” Tony shifted, bringing an arm around Peter and pulling the blankets back. Then he rolled the boy over his body and settled him in between himself and Pepper, who also moved a little to make room. In the dark, Peter could see that neither adult even opened their eyes. “Better?” Tony asked, sleepily, bringing the blankets back over the boy.

Peter nodded, even though Tony couldn’t see it, and he felt something inside him squeal with happiness when both of them turned in their sleep toward him, each cuddling up against him. Pinned as he was between them, he couldn’t hug himself, but he definitely wanted to. Warmed immediately, inside and out, Peter closed his eyes and tucked his bear against Pepper.

Then he went to sleep, too.

><><><><><>

Tony woke first.

He was vaguely aware of an elbow in his ribs, and a soft snoring that wasn't coming from him. He opened his eyes and wasn't surprised to see Peter in bed with him – although he was a little surprised (and pleased? _Touched_?) to see that Pepper hadn’t left the bed when he’d fallen asleep. He frowned, watching his son and Pepper sleep and tried to remember Peter coming to bed.

He was still drawing a blank when Pepper opened her eyes, also, looking sleep-dazed and a little uncertain where she was. The billionaire watched as she looked over at him, and then down at Peter who was nestled between them under the blankets, looking for all the world as if he didn’t have a care in the world, just then.

And he probably _didn’t_ , Stark realized.

“I’m a little fuzzy on the details,” Tony whispered over Peter’s sleeping form. “He didn’t come in with you, last night, did he?”

Pepper smiled and shook her head, looking amused and enchanted at the little boy sleeping snuggled up against her – although he was turned slightly on his side toward Tony, his face buried in Stark’s t-shirt.

“He wasn't here when I fell asleep,” she confirmed, also whispering. “Must have come in, later.”

“Think he’s okay?”

“He looks alright,” she replied. “He didn’t wake you?”

“Not that I remember.” He frowned. “ _Maybe_?”

There might have been a dream about Peter asking to sleep with him. JARVIS wasn't there to confirm it.

“How did _you_ sleep?” she asked.

He knew she was asking about nightmares, and he shook his head.

“Soundly. Thank you.”

Which made Pepper smile.

“Do you normally put him back in his own bed?”

“Nope. I usually wake him up and tell him to get ready for school. Since it’s Saturday, though, I might just lay in bed with him – and _you_ – all day.”

“Sounds domestic.”

The way she said it didn’t make it sound like it was a terrible thing.

“I’m pretty domesticated, now,” he pointed out. “I was invited to join the PTA at Peter’s school.”

“And…?”

“I said I’d get back to them. I want to see what I’d have to do before I committed to anything.”

“Wise choice.”

They weren’t as quiet as they were trying to be, or Peter was just not as sleepy, now, because the little boy stirred between them, yawning and rolling onto his back as he opened his eyes. He looked at Pepper, and then over at Tony.

“It’s morning?”

“Pretty close,” Tony said, reaching out and brushing his curls from his forehead. “How did you sleep?”

“Okay.”

“Was your bed uncomfortable?”

Peter shook his head.

“I think there was a axe murderer outside my room…”

“An axe murderer?” Pepper echoed. She gave Tony a pointed look. “I wonder why you thought _that_ …”

Stark’s expression was innocence personified.

“No clue.”

“Because you said that there-“

He was interrupted with a hand being clasped over his mouth, and Tony’s eyes were amused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And neither do you.”

Peter’s eyes were happy.

“Okay.”

His voice was muffled by his father’s hand.

“It’s still early,” Tony told him. “Are you going back to sleep?”

“Can I stay in here?”

“Yes.”

Peter looked at Pepper.

“Are you staying?”

“I’m going to get up.”

“Why?” Tony asked, reaching over Peter and catching her hand. “You don’t have anything pressing to do, today, right? Stay and keep us company. I like the idea of lounging in bed with my two favorite people.”

She hesitated, but then shrugged.

“I suppose. For a little while.”

Besides, she liked the idea of lounging around with them, too.

Peter smiled up at them, and hugged himself.

><><><><><

Despite just how happy he was, Peter fell back to sleep almost immediately. He was tired, still, and comfortable, warm and protected. All were enough to overcome the happiness of being in the middle of a three person dogpile. This time when he went to sleep, though, he was turned away from Tony and had put an arm around Pepper, as if to make sure she stayed, and had buried his face into her collarbone.

“Did he do that to you when I was away?” Stark asked her, softly, smiling down at the boy and then at her.

“No personal boundaries,” she said, also smiling. “Just like his dad.”

Stark’s expression was amused rather than offended. Besides, it was true – to a point.

“I’m teaching him well.”

“You _are_ ,” she agreed. “He’s a very sweet child.”

“That’s a product of his mom and dad,” Tony said. “They were probably amazing people. So amazing that two years with his less than stellar example of an aunt didn’t turn him into a little horror. My job is to make sure it stays that way, I suppose.”

“You're doing fine,” Pepper assured him. “He’s happy and well-adjusted.”

“It’ll be interesting to see what the psychologist says,” he murmured. “Maybe see what I could be doing better.”

“Are you doubting yourself?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, amused.

“What? No.” He pretended to act scandalized. “Of course not. I’m just willing to accept that little boys aren’t my specialty and that I might be open to suggestions.”

“That’s a good start.” Pepper brushed her free hand along Peter’s cheek, unable to help herself, but careful not to wake the boy. “But he’s doing fine, Tony. You made him your priority, and that means everything, I imagine. The psychologist will agree.”

“I hope so…” he shifted, and rolled a little more toward the boy, so he could drape his arm over Peter and get more comfortable. “It almost feels like I’ll be getting midterm results on a class that I’ve never prepped for.”

That was a good analogy, she decided.

“You’re up to the challenge. Go back to sleep. I’m going to.”

Why not? As had already been pointed out to her, they didn’t have anything that they had to do, right away. She wanted to walk around the property, a little, later when it was light out – and maybe not so cold – so she could see what was there, and what kind of view there might be. And even get a little exercise and run some of Peter’s boundless energy off.

“We need to go outside, later,” Tony told her, closing his eyes and willing to do what she told him. “I probably should look around for any axe murderers that might be lurking outside his room.”

Pepper snorted, amused.

“Yes.”

Then she allowed herself to drift off, too.

She was just too warm and comfortable to get up, yet.


	125. 125

Eventually they got out of bed.

Peter was actually the first to become restless and finally just rolled himself over Tony (who had woken, again, by then, luckily) and left. His little bladder needed emptied, and he was ready to get outside and take a look around the boonies.

Pepper and Tony got up, too, then, of course. Not only because they didn’t want to leave Peter unsupervised any longer than necessary (he was a good little boy, but still a _little boy_ , after all) but because in the light of the day, the two of them weren’t ready, just then, to lounge together alone in a bed. Tony did steal a kiss, though, before he thanked her for being so incredible, and offered to go start the coffee.

Peter was sitting at the table, already playing with Lego batman who was chasing Frodo around a salt shaker when Tony arrived in the kitchen.

“Can we go outside?”

“After breakfast.”

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Cereal.”

“Toast?”

“There isn’t a toaster, buddy,” Tony told him, looking around. “Sorry.”

“Pop tarts?”

Peter knew they had them – and he didn’t mind them cold.

“Sure.”

They’d brought a box for a reason, after all – and it wasn't because Pepper and Tony liked them.

By the time Pepper appeared, having stopped in her room to change into jeans and a long-sleeved turtleneck, the coffee was done and Peter was working his way through a bowl of oatmeal, munching happily on a couple of pop tarts. Both smiled at her arrival, and Peter patted the table next to him.

“I saved you a spot.”

Tony rolled his eyes, amused. Like there weren’t going to be any spots left for her? But he didn’t say anything, and he smiled when Pepper thanked the boy and sat down in the chair beside his.

“Oatmeal?”

“Yeah. Want a pop tart?”

“No, thank you.” She looked at Tony. “Waiter? I’d like coffee and a muffin, please.”

Stark smirked, and bowed, extravagantly.

“Right away, ma’am.”

Peter giggled.

“I want to look around the property, today,” she told the boy, uncertain if he’d been awake when she and Tony had discussed it. “Want to come?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll check for anything weird happening outside your room, too,” Tony said.

“Okay.”

“Did your stomach hurt, last night?” Pepper asked him, accepting the cup of coffee she was handed. “Is that what had you so worried?”

“No. I just heard noises.” In the daytime it didn’t seem as scary, of course. “I don’t know what they were… I thought maybe there was an axe murderer.”

“The boonies have weird noises,” Tony said, sagely, as he dished some oatmeal for himself and for Pepper, who looked at it, uncertainly when he set it in front of her along with milk, brown sugar, raisins, and a spoon. “They’re even different from the ones we heard when we were at the sledding resort, I imagine.”

Peter nodded his agreement.

“It was a little scary.”

“Because you’ve never been to the boonies.” Tony seated himself at the table with his own bowl of oatmeal and reached for the brown sugar. “We’ll walk around, today, and let you get an idea of what there is, so you won’t be so nervous, tonight.”

“Same things in the day as in the dark,” Pepper added.

“Okay.”

They seemed to be pretty sure what they were talking about, and Peter trusted both of them.

Stark winked at Pepper, amused, when the boy turned his attention back to his breakfast.

“Tonight, though, I say we pile into Pepper’s bed to watch a movie before bedtime. She’s the only one with a TV – and her bed is bigger.”

Peter looked excited by the idea, and glanced at her, hopefully.

She nodded.

“Sure. If we can find any.”

They hadn’t actually looked for digital entertainment, since there were plenty of boardgames to be had.

“Wow. That’ll be fun.”

><><><><><

They finished eating, cleaned the kitchen and then bundled up into their heavy outerwear.

“Do we lock the door?” Tony asked, curiously, as they stood on the porch, looking around and deciding which direction they wanted to go.

“It’s the boonies,” she reminded him, using the phrase that Peter was so find of, because Tony said it all the time. “Probably don’t need to. Knowing our luck, we’d lock the door, and then lose the key and spend the night sleeping in the car.”

“You make a good point.” He looked at Peter. “Which way?”

The boy shrugged, looking up at Pepper.

“Where do you want to go?”

Since the place was surrounded by nothing but trees, except for the road that they’d driven in on, and the frozen lake, Pepper didn’t have a preference – as long as they didn’t get lost. Luckily, they would leave the only footprints in the snow, and wouldn’t have any trouble finding their way back. Something that Tony had pointed out to Peter to assure him that there weren’t any axe murderers lurking in the area by where his bedroom was.

“West.”

“The sun rises in the east,” Tony said, looking at the boy. “Which way are we going, then?”

Might as well make it a lesson. He wasn't Daniel Boone, or anything, but he knew directions – and could even read a compass, if push came to shove.

Peter looked at the sun, which was up and shining full force, albeit weakly in the winter cold. Then he pointed the opposite direction.

“Very good,” Pepper approved. “Don’t wander off, okay?”

“I won’t.”

He proved it by jumping off the porch with as mighty a leap as an eight year old could make, and landing in the snow, and running off toward the trees that lined the edge of the clearing that the cabin had been built in. Before Tony could call out to bring him up short, Peter stopped and waited for them, smiling, happily.

The billionaire rolled his eyes, and Pepper smiled.

“He’s going to drive me to drinking.”

“I’m pretty sure that he’s the reason you _stopped_ drinking,” she pointed out.

“He’ll drive me _back_ to drinking,” came the correction.

He was amused, though, and with a nonchalance that he didn’t exactly feel, he reached for her hand and led her down the stairs. In case there was some ice, he told himself. That way she didn’t slip.

The fact that he didn’t release it at the bottom step didn’t mean anything.

They were both still holding hands, though, when they caught up to Peter and he took off at a run, again, making sure to stay within sight of them, but too full of energy and youthful exuberance to match their sedate pace.

><<><><><>

The weather was nice for the time of year. It was cold, but it wasn't snowing, and the abundant trees kept there from being any kind of significant wind to chill them. Tony and Pepper walked, watching Peter run around ahead of them, chasing the occasional squirrel up a tree, or crouching down to look at an interesting root, or rock (if it stuck out of the snow) and one time to pick up a dark colored one to bring over to show to them – only to be told by Pepper that she was pretty sure it was spoor.

Peter had to ask what spoor was, and then confirm with Tony that she really did mean that he was holding _poop_ in his hand. The only saving grace was that he was wearing mittens, but he still spent the next fifteen minutes wiping that mittened hand on every tree trunk that they walked by, until it felt like it was clean, again.

Then he took off like a shot and went back to running around – but he didn’t pick up anything else to bring back to them.

“So?” Tony asked as they finally walked back up the steps to the front door, all of them chilled and hungry. “Are you interested in buying this place?”

She nodded.

“It’s quiet, and not so rustic that I have to go outside to find an outhouse in the middle of the night. I might make an offer.”

“And let us come visit, sometimes?” Peter asked, proving that he was listening.

“I’m not moving in,” Pepper pointed out, smiling a thank you to Tony when he held the door for them. “It would just be a place to come on the weekends, sometimes. Or for a vacation if I wanted to get away.”

“But we could come?” Peter asked, again.

“Of course.”

He looked so pleased that she had to smile. “You look cold. Tony? Start the fire, please. I’ll make some coffee for us and hot chocolate for Peter, and we’ll see if we can thaw out.”

The boy took his coat and boots off – and the mittens and hat – and left them by the door with the others. Then he went to sit on the couch, watching as Tony hung his coat up, as well, and then went over to start the logs that he’d set up in the fireplace before they’d left.

“How did you learn how to start a fire?” Peter asked, curiously, as the kindling caught on the first try. “Did your dad teach you?”

The billionaire shook his head, placing the screen in front of the flames before moving over to sit beside Peter, who immediately crawled into his lap.

“No. I learned in college.”

“It was a class?” Peter asked, resting his cheek on Tony’s shoulder.

“No. We’d have bonfires on the weekends,” he said, running his hand along Peter’s back, to make sure that he wasn't cold. He didn’t seem to be. “On the beach.”

“Will you teach me?”

“Of course.” Tony turned his head and brushed a kiss against Peter’s cheek, pleased that the morning had drained some of the boy’s energy and had apparently left him in the mood to cuddle. That meant he’d be willing to settle in for games after lunch, and maybe a movie (if they could find one) after dinner. He wasn't in the mood to go back outside, for a while. “Not today, though. You’re too young to be messing with fire. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“Here, guys,” Pepper said, walking over with a tray that she set on the coffee table. There were three mugs; two with coffee and one with hot chocolate. Tony saw that she’d even found a large marshmallow to put in Peter’s. And a plate of cookies. “I had fun,” she said, settling on the sofa while Peter climbed out of Tony’s lap to sit in the space between the two adults and reach for a cookie and the mug.

“Me, too,” the boy assured her. “Thank you,” he added, politely, when she pushed the cookies closer to him.

“Only a _couple_ ,” she cautioned. “We’re going to have lunch, soon.”

><><><><>

Once they were warmed up, Tony left Peter and Pepper on the sofa in front of the fireplace talking about the things they’d seen on their walk while he made their lunch. It was a simple meal of cold cut sandwiches, chips and canned soup, but they all ate heartily. Then, when they were finished, Tony reminded Peter that he had homework to work on, so the boy took his backpack and settled on the floor by the coffee table, while Pepper and Tony both pulled out their tablets and settled on the sofa.

That way Tony would be close at hand if Peter had any questions about what he was doing, but could still catch up on what was going on in the world, and emails. He and Pepper tended to subscribe to a few of the same news feeds – mostly financial – and they both were drawn to the headlines of the week, previous.

“That’s odd,” Pepper murmured only a few minutes into the first article.

“Yeah? What are you reading?”

“There have been some curious deaths over in Europe and Asia, the last week.”

“I saw that.”

They were very public, after all. Three CEOs of major European businesses had died, recently. Two in seemingly unrelated auto accidents and one by apparent suicide. Also topping the newly deceased list, Tony read, were two minor government officials in Germany, and a high profile entertainer in Austria. One was found in the park, an apparent victim of a mugging gone badly – with his bodyguards nowhere to be found – and the other having fallen off a very high balcony.

“ _Natasha’s_ in Europe,” Peter said, looking up from his math homework for a moment.

Tony nodded.

“I know.”

He exchanged a look with Pepper, and then turned his attention back to the tablet.


	126. 126

They didn’t stay inside the rest of the day.

Peter hadn’t tried out the tire swing, yet, and was anxious to do so, and Tony had no intention of allowing the little boy outside in the boonies, alone – although he wisely didn’t mention axe murderers, again. Even a genius could learn a lesson, after all. He bundled back into his jacket – although he didn’t bother with heavy boots, since they weren’t going hiking – and he followed Peter out the door, with Pepper assuring them that she would be joining them in a few minutes.

By the time she’d finished the article she was reading, and had put on shoes and a jacket, Peter had already cleared all the snow from around the swing and Tony had checked the rope to make sure it wasn't going to break in the apex of a swing. Then he’d turned the boy loose. Peter was swinging in broad circles, hanging upside down and giggling, reaching out, fully, and trying to touch the ground or the tree trunk each time the tire came close.

When Pepper walked over to stand beside Tony, who was watching the boy from far enough away that there wouldn’t be any collision with the tire, but close enough that he was there if he was needed, he smiled a greeting to her.

“He looks like he’s having a good time.”

“Because he is,” Tony agreed. “I thanked you for having us?”

“You did. I’m having a good time, too,” she added.

“Good. We’ll do it, again, sometime.”

She nodded.

“Have you heard from SHIELD?”

“SHIELD in general?” Tony asked, softly. “Or _Natasha_ , specifically?”

“Natasha.”

“I’ve sent her some pictures of Peter,” he replied. “But I gather she’s a little busy, right now. I haven’t tried calling her.”

“Think she’s alright?”

“I think she is, yes.” He hadn’t heard otherwise. “She’s extremely competent – and she isn’t alone.”

“True.”

Pepper didn’t know everything about the SHIELD organization, but she knew some of them, and she was impressed by them. And relieved that they were watching over Tony – and now Peter.

She watched the little boy swing for a while and then decided to go over and join him. Peter’s welcoming smile was enough to get her to accept his offer to let her swing, and she sat on the tire – a little awkwardly – and he pushed her a few times, until she was spinning and twisting, wildly.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Peter asked as he helped bring the tire to a stop, eventually.

“It is. You should see about having Tony put one in your backyard at home.”

Hearing his name – or maybe just ready to join them, since his feet were getting numb with cold – Stark walked over.

“Let’s call it a day, buddy,” he told Peter. “It’s getting dark, and I’m ready for dinner.”

“We’re having s’mores, right?”

“Yup. I didn’t lug those marshmallows all the way out here for nothing. We’ll find you a good roasting stick after dinner.”

“Yay!”

Peter ran into the house, abandoning the two adults, and Pepper’s smile was amused.

“That was easy.”

“It was the only thing I could think of that would get him to give up swinging.”

“You’ll never get him to sleep, tonight.”

Tony shrugged.

“It isn’t a school night, and he can sleep on the way home, tomorrow.”

“Good point.”

><><><><>

“That was probably not a good idea,” Pepper said, softly, her brow furrowed as she watched Peter seat himself as close to the hearth of the fireplace as he could.

In one hand he held a marshmallow roasting stick that they’d found in the closet and washed. In the other, he had a small bag that contained a package of graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows, and several chocolate bars.

Tony and Pepper were settled on the couch, watching as he sat down and opened the bag.

“What isn’t?”

“Letting him have all of that. He’ll make himself sick.”

“He won’t eat _all_ of it, Pep,” Tony assured her. “He’s too smart to do something that dumb.”

“He’s a little boy.”

The billionaire reached for his tablet, ready to do a little trolling on social media, or maybe catch up on any new emails.

“He’ll be fine.” When she raised an eyebrow, though, he rolled his eyes. “Peter?”

The boy turned, already shoving a marshmallow into his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t eat them all. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Peter turned back to the task of unwrapping the chocolate bar and Tony gave Pepper a somewhat smug look.

“See?”

She shrugged, and picked up her tablet, too.

“You’re his father.”

“Yup.”

><><><><>

“I told you not to eat them all.”

Peter’s eyes were wide and innocent.

“I _didn’t_.”

Tony rolled his eyes, holding up the marshmallow bag.

“There’s one marshmallow in here.”

“ _And_ I left a graham cracker, too.”

Pepper snorted, making both of them look over at her.

“Can you believe him?” Stark asked.

“He’s right,” she pointed out. “He didn’t eat them all. There’s even a piece of chocolate left.”

Tony scowled, but turned back to his son.

“How do you feel?”

“Good. Can I have a pop tart?”

Pepper’s amused giggle made it hard for Tony to keep his expression straight.

“I think you’ve had enough to eat, tonight, little man,” he assured the boy. “Go get ready for bed.”

“I thought we were going to go to Pepper’s room and watch a movie?”

“We _are_ …” Tony told him, looking over at Pepper to make sure she was still good with that. “But you can watch a movie in your pajamas.”

“Okay.”

Peter left them, stopping long enough to scoop up the remaining piece of chocolate and put it on the graham cracker before shoving it into his mouth. Then he went into his room.

“I can’t believe he ate all of that,” Pepper said, shaking her head.

“Neither can I.”

“Maybe it’s one of his superpowers that we haven’t discovered, yet. Super gut.”

“I hope it’s elasticity,” Tony said. “He’s going to be bouncing off the walls any minute.”

She smiled.

“I’m going to go get ready for bed, too. I’ll meet you both in my bed when you’re ready.”

He forced down the inappropriate reply – a sign of growth, clearly – and headed for his bedroom, too.

><><><><><

They put Peter between them. Both because he was a perfect buffer, and because he climbed over Tony when he arrived in Pepper’s room and plopped himself in between them with a happy smile and a sigh of contentment.

“What are we going to watch?” Tony asked Pepper as he settled himself more comfortably before getting Peter covered with her blankets.

“We’re in luck,” she replied, reaching for the remote and turning on the television that was hanging on the wall of the master bedroom. “There is a streaming device. We can do a Disney movie, if we want.”

_“Lego Batman?”_ Peter suggested, hopefully.

_“Peter Pan?”_ Tony countered.

That made the little boy smile, and he nodded, snuggling down into the blankets and soaking up the warmth from the two adults. Not to mention the fact that he was being cuddled – even though neither was actually holding him.

“Okay.”

Pepper smiled, searching for – and finding – the movie he’d named.

“Smooth.”

Tony simply smirked, and brought an arm around Peter, bringing him up against his side to allow Pepper to decline being a living teddy bear if she wasn't up for it.

“I happen to _like_ Peter Pan,” he said. “Peter is one of the best names in the world.”

Not surprisingly, the boy shivered, happily, and cuddled up to Tony’s side, ready to settle in, now, and watch the movie and be held. Pepper reached over and turned the lights down and started the movie.

Then, to Peter’s absolute delight, she scooted a little closer to the boy and put an arm around him, too.

><><><><><

Tony was surprised when Peter fell asleep during the movie.

Like Pepper, he thoroughly expected the boy to be restless – a product of the sugar that had to be coursing through his system from all of the s’mores that he’d eaten. Instead, he made it most of the way through Peter Pan before a soft snore told Tony that he’d fallen asleep.

Pepper noticed, too, and in the light of the TV and the lamp on the bedside, he saw he look down at Peter and then over at him.

“I can’t believe he’s asleep,” she said, softly.

“Right? I’ll put him to bed when the movie’s done. Start getting yourself free.”

Over the course of the remainder of the movie, Pepper and Tony both carefully slid their arms out from under Peter without waking him, although they kept the blankets on him, and they were still pressed against his sides when the final credits rolled.

“Do you have him?” Pepper asked when Tony rolled out of the bed, and scooped Peter carefully into his arms.

“Yeah.” He kissed the boy’s cheek when Peter roused, and crooned softly in reassurance. Peter went back to sleep, immediately. “Thanks for the nice evening.”

“Disney cartoons in bed is your idea of a nice evening, now?”

“What can I say?”

She smiled.

“Good night, Tony.”

“Night, Pep.”

He carried Peter into the boy’s room and settled him on the bottom bunk, rather than the top, since it was easier to get him into bed that way. Then he covered him up, kissed him, again, and tucked his bear into the crook of his elbow before he left, closing the door behind him.

A quick check of the cabin to make sure all the lights were off – they already knew the fire was dying down, safely – and he went to bed, too.

><><><><>

“Dad…?”

Tony mumbled something, but didn’t open his eyes.

“Dad…”

His sleepy mind told him that the voice was important, and the address sounded somewhat urgent. Urgent enough that he managed to open his eyes – and found Peter standing beside his bed, his little face pale and his eyes uncertain.

Tony sat up.

“Peter? What’s wrong, son?”

“My stomach hurts.”

“Like something’s going to happen?” Tony asked, feeling a pang of concern.

Had he checked the locks on the door?

“No. It _hurts_.”

As if to emphasize that, the boy’s hand went to his abdomen.

“Do you want to sleep with me?” Tony asked, reaching for Peter, who tensed the moment his father took hold of him and picked him up, disturbing what little equilibrium he had, just then.

“Wait-“

The word was cut off as Peter’s stomach erupted, and he threw up. All over himself. And his father.


	127. 127

To his credit, Tony didn’t push the boy off of himself to avoid being puked on. He didn’t exactly hug him close, either, though. The first wave of nausea passed, leaving them both slimed. Peter sobbed, which then made him choke on the next surge of sickness, and Tony turned him over his lap, slapping his back, lightly, suddenly worried that he was going to suffocate or something horrible.

That wave of vomit ended up running down the Tony’s side and was smeared all over his bedding – and _Peter_. The boy coughed several times, but the cascading muck stopped, shortly, as did the spasms that shook Peter’s little body. Tony uprighted him, again, and examined him, carefully. He was covered in the grossest, stinkiest sludge of goo that Tony could ever remember seeing – and he’d been fall down drunk enough to have seen some pretty bad stuff in his day. Just as bad, it was all over him, too.

Peter burst into tears, either because throwing up hurt, or because they were both filthy, or because he’d thrown up on Tony – or any combination of them – and Tony hugged the boy close, goo and all.

“Shhh… it’s okay.”

“Tony?” He looked up at a knock on the door and Pepper walking in, turning on the overhead light. “What’s going – _oh_.”

Stark rubbed Peter’s back, but the boy was still sobbing, and clinging to him as if for dear life.

“Peter’s stomach is a little upset…”

To her credit, she didn’t say _I told you so_. She made a soft sound of commiseration, and walked over to the bed, taking in the havoc that an entire bag of marshmallows, a box of graham crackers and several chocolate bars could wreak on a grown man, a little boy, and a full-sized bed.

“Poor baby…” she started to reach out to touch him, maybe to pat his back, but brought her hand back before she could. No sense _her_ being messy, too. “What do we do?”

She wrangled billion dollar business deals practically daily, but she definitely wasn't sure what to make of the scene in front of her.

“Does your stomach still hurt?” Tony asked Peter, trying to distract him from the tears.

“I don’t know,” he said, his face buried in his father’s neck, smearing them both, further. “Maybe.”

He sneezed, then, his nose and sinuses already trying to eject what was stuck there, and sprayed himself and Tony. And started crying, again.

“I’m going to take him into the bathroom and help him get cleaned up,” Stark told her. “Will you find him some clothes and meet us there?”

“Yes.”

She left, and Tony stood up, awkwardly holding him, still.

“You’re good, buddy. It’s not the end of the world…”

Peter sniffed into his neck.

“It _feels_ like it.”

“I know.” He couldn’t bring himself to kiss that goo smeared cheek, but he really _wanted_ to. “Come on. We’ll go get you cleaned up, and into some warm, dry clothes, and it won’t seem so bad. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

He carried him into the bathroom, and sat him on the vanity next to the sink long enough to pull the boy’s shirt off. The rest of the soiled clothing followed, and Tony decided that there was enough mess in Peter’s hair that he might as well get him into the shower. The handle was too high for Peter to manage alone, so Tony helped the boy wash his hair, and then the rest of his body – but especially his _face_. The warm spray was soothing, and despite the fact that the billionaire was getting his own clothes soaked, he kept Peter in longer than was really necessary to get him cleaned.

When Pepper arrived with a fluffy towel and some underwear, sweats and a long-sleeved shirt that could double as pajamas, he wrapped his son in the towel and dried him off, and then kissed his cheek when he set him back up on the vanity to use a smaller towel to dry Peter’s hair and comb it.

“Better?” he asked.

Peter sniffed, again, but despite the woeful expression on his face, he nodded.

“Yes.”

“How does your stomach feel?” Pepper asked, setting a stack of dry clothes on the vanity that she’d brought from _Tony’s_ room, too.

“Sore.”

“Probably more from heaving, than anything,” Tony guessed. “Can Pepper hang out with you until I get cleaned up and into some dry clothes?”

Peter nodded, and Pepper picked him up, towel and all.

“I’ll get him dressed and then we’ll go cuddle on the couch and wait for you,” she told him.

“Thank you.”

Tony waited until the door closed and then stripped out of his sodden clothes – which might as well go in the garbage as far as he was concerned, they were that bad – and then took a long shower. He washed his hair, _twice_ , just to make sure, and then got out, so he could dry off, get dressed and go see how Peter was feeling.

><><><>

Pepper was on the sofa when he walked into the living room, freshly showered, cleaned and feeling better about the whole mess. She wasn't alone, of course. Peter was in her lap, now warmly dressed and bundled in a blanket. His head was resting on her shoulder and she was crooning to him, softly, while rocking him – very carefully.

Tony felt warm and gooey inside at the sight.

He walked over to stand behind the sofa, and Peter’s brown eyes looked up at him, but he never lifted his head.

“How do you feel, buddy?” Tony asked. “Better?”

“No.”

“He isn’t _heaving_ ,” Pepper reported. “So that’s a win, right?”

“Yeah.” He walked around the couch and settled next to Pepper, and reached for Peter. “Come here, little man,” he said. “We need to let Pepper get back to bed.”

Peter sniffed, and turned his head, ignoring the gesture and tightening his grip on Pepper. He didn’t say anything, but he really didn’t need to, did he? She smirked, and ran her fingers through the boy’s still-damp curls. He wasn't ready to give up the lap he was in, just then.

“I’ll hold him for a little while longer,” she told Tony. “It’s fine.”

“You sure? There’s no guarantee that his stomach isn’t going to go for round two.”

Or five, or six, depending on how it was being counted.

“Peter won’t throw up on me,” Pepper said, turning her head to kiss the boy’s temple. “Will you?”

“No.”

Stark rolled his eyes, but settled in next to them in case something happened, and she needed to hand Peter over, quickly.

“You realize you _have_ to buy this place, now, right? Otherwise she’ll have to disclose the eruption that just happened in the bedroom.”

“We’ll bundle all the bedding and drop it at the dumpster on the way back to the main road, tomorrow,” Pepper decided.

She didn’t want to deal with that particular mess, either.

“I’m sorry,” Peter murmured, face in her neck, but his grip loosening a little, now.

“It’s alright, honey,” she assured him.

“We’ll be a little more careful, next time, though,” Tony added. “Won’t we?”

“I’m never eating, again…”

“That’s a little extreme. Just don’t eat twenty s’mores, next time. I’ll be there to remind you.”

Peter sighed, and then closed his eyes, sleepily.

While Pepper and Tony discussed the cleanup of the bed in Tony’s room, and then decided what time they wanted to head back to the city the next day (just after lunch) Peter dozed off in Pepper’s embrace. Tony stood up, and eased him out of her arms with a tender smile.

“I’m going to put him to bed,” he said, softly. “Thanks for the assist.”

She smiled, definitely ready to go back to bed, too.

“Lesson learned, huh?”

“Definitely.”

He told her goodnight, and then put Peter into the top bunk in his room and claimed the bottom one for himself for the night. He definitely wasn't going to sleep in his bed, now was he?


	128. 128

“I’m not hungry.”

Tony frowned.

“You need to eat something, buddy.”

Peter’s expression was uncertain, but he shook his head, looking at his father almost apologetically.

“Later.”

Pepper made a soft noise from where she was sitting near the boy at the table. She’d checked on the two when she’d woken, which had been earlier than usual – even for her – and had found Peter sprawled on Tony in the bottom bunk. The little boy had been above the blankets, making her think that he probably hadn’t started in the bottom bed, and he was laying across Stark’s body, his little butt in the air and a knee in Tony’s side. It was a wonder that the man was able to sleep like that, and she’d snapped a picture on her phone before closing the door, silently, and going to start coffee.

An hour or so later Tony had joined her, looking rumpled and still a little sleepy, but the cup of coffee that she offered did wonders to restore him. Peter had gone back to sleep, he’d told her, reaching for his tablet and taking another sip of coffee.

The boy was awake, now, though, and was dressed and ready to start his day. But he wasn't enamored of the idea of breakfast, they soon discovered when he’d joined them at the breakfast table and had declined anything to eat.

“Is your stomach still hurting you?” Pepper asked, reaching out and brushing her fingers along his cheek.

“No.”

“Then you really _should_ eat something,” she said. “If it doesn’t hurt, you probably won’t throw up, again.”

“It was just too many marshmallows, son,” Tony confirmed. “It overloaded your belly. Maybe some oatmeal would help you feel better.”

And would reassure him that food wasn't the enemy.

In normal quantities, anyway.

“I didn’t like it.”

“You threw up on me,” Tony reminded him, tousling his hair to make sure he knew he wasn't annoyed. “I didn’t much _care_ for it, either. But oatmeal is bland and won’t upset your stomach.”

“Promise?”

“Sure.”

Peter looked skeptical, still, but when the bowl was placed in front of him, with a slice of lightly buttered bread on a plate next to it, he took a careful spoonful, and then a nibble of the corner of the bread and waited, clearly expecting a new eruption.

When it didn’t happen, he took another bite, and then another.

Pepper smiled over her cup of coffee at Tony, who simply shrugged.

“When we get done eating, I want you to go pack all your things,” Stark told the boy. “We’re not coming back if you forget something – not until the next time we come for a weekend visit – so check under the bed, and in the bathroom. Yeah?”

Peter nodded. He looked around the inside of the cabin.

“I like this place.”

“I do, too,” Pepper agreed. “Thanks for checking it out with me.”

“You’re welcome.”

They discussed what they liked and didn’t like about the cabin while they finished eating and then Peter left the table to do as he’d been told.

“It probably wouldn’t work out for every weekend,” Tony said as he started stacking dishes. “But it’s a nice getaway place, isn’t it?”

“We’ll have to come up sometime in the summer,” Pepper told him, getting up to help. “It might be noisier, then – and in the fall, in case there are hunters out and about.”

“Good point.”

He wouldn’t risk Peter near anyone with a gun (aside from SHIELD and Avengers, of course) and definitely didn’t like the idea of strangers with coolers and picnic supplies traipsing through the serene woods making a lot of noise.

“Are you planning on coming to the tower, tomorrow?”

“Depends on how long the doctors take,” he replied. “The pediatrician is at nine and the psychologist is at eleven. There’s no sense having Peter go to school a half day, so if he’s feeling up to it after being poked and prodded and put on the couch, then I might bring him in with me after lunch.”

“I’ll keep your schedule clear, then,” Pepper said. “Just in case.”

“Thanks.” He sighed. “I’m going to go find a garbage bag and take care of the blankets and clothes from last night.”

“You’re _really_ going to throw them away?”

“I’m certainly not going to _clean_ them. Tell the owner we’ll buy her new bedding, first chance we get.”

“Too bad he wasn't wearing his _Batman pajamas_ ,” she said with a smirk.

“Next time.”

“If we don’t dawdle, we could take another walk before we go. Maybe down to the lake and check it out.”

“Good plan. I’ll go see what the boy is doing.”

She smiled and watched him go, garbage sack in hand, and then looked around the cabin.

“It is a nice little retreat,” she murmured.

><><><><><

“You’re good?”

Peter hesitated, looking up at Tony, uncertainly, and then at the receptionist desk where a woman with a friendly smile had watched them enter the pediatrician’s office.

“The _SHIELD_ doctors looked at me…” he reminded Tony. “They said I’m fine.”

“And they’re _very_ good doctors,” his father agreed, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder to keep the boy from hiding behind him like he tended to do when he was nervous about meeting anyone new. “But Dr. Allen is a doctor for kids. Besides, we want someone closer to the house as your permanent doctor – just in case something was to happen. Makes sense?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

Tony swept Peter up into his arms and carried him over.

“I checked her out,” he assured him. “She’s a nice lady. You’ll see.”

“Okay.”

The receptionist had – of course – recognized Tony, and knew who Peter was, by association. She smiled when the two reached the desk.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Tony answered, feeling Peter’s nose pressing against his neck. “My son Peter has an appointment at nine.”

“We’re pleased to have him,” she assured the two. She handed a clipboard of paperwork to the billionaire. “These need to be filled out, please. And you guys can hang out in the waiting room until we call you.”

“Thank you.” He turned, still holding Peter, and saw that the waiting room they were pointed toward was filled with all kinds of toys and brightly colored furniture; child-sized tables, chairs and bookshelves. There were tons of coloring books, magazines and toys and a couple of decent sofas. Tony sat down, but dumped Peter off his lap onto the plush leather so he could fill out the paperwork.

“Go play, son.”

Peter rolled off the couch, doing as he was told, and was excited to find that the doctor’s office had a lot of Legos and an entire table that was set up to build directly on the surface. He smiled and picked up some blocks and got to work.

Tony watched him long enough to make sure that he was fine, but then turned his attention to the paperwork in front of him. No matter how long the doctor had them waiting, he was sure that he wasn't going to have it filled out before they called Peter’s name. 

><><>><><

_“Well?”_

“Well?”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

_“How did the doctor’s appointment go?”_

“Doctor Allen is a very nice woman and Peter seemed to like her just fine.”

_“Good. Did you learn anything that you didn’t already know?”_

“He’s remarkably intelligent, and is somewhat small for his age,” Tony reported. “Both of which we already knew.” He smiled. “She commented on the fact that he was wearing Ironman briefs, and Peter pointed out to her that no one had warned him that he was going to have to take his clothes off.”

Pepper chuckled.

_“Everything looks alright, though? Did she find anything that explains how he does what he can do?”_

“Not by looking at him,” Tony said. “And she drew blood, just as a baseline, but she won’t find anything abnormal there, either. SHIELD took blood when he was sick and they didn’t find anything.”

_“You_ let _them?”_

“I asked them to. Just in case there was something I needed to know.” He shrugged. “Short of doing a DNA test, or something, there isn’t anything that shows up – and I’m not going to authorize a DNA test. We know where he comes from, already.”

_“Where is he?”_

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Flirting with the receptionist. We’re making another appointment for a couple of months out, and then we’ll go find a playground until it’s time for Dr. Wayne. Give him a chance to run off some energy before we ask him to sit still.”

_“Is Peter nervous?”_

Tony looked over at the boy, who had already charmed the receptionist – and the pediatrician.

“I think he’s holding out hope that it’s _Bruce_ Wayne in the flesh.”

Pepper’s smile was amused, but not surprised.

“Let me know how it goes.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the silence. Life got really busy suddenly! the weekend is coming, though


	129. 129

Another doctor.

Peter couldn’t help the fact that he hung back, this time, and hid behind Tony’s leg when he was introduced to Dr. Wayne. Who _wasn't_ Bruce Wayne in disguise. Wasn't even named _Bruce_ if the brass name plate on the door was telling the truth. The doctor’s name was Melvin. And when he came out to meet Peter and Tony in the small waiting room that was even more comfortable than Doctor Allen’s had been, Peter saw that he was too young to be Bruce Wayne in disguise.

“He’s a little shy,” Tony explained to the doctor.

Stark hadn’t actually vetted the child psychologist himself, allowing that Pepper was even a better judge of character than he was – not to mention at least as thorough as he was, especially when it came to Peter’s well-being. The guy was ridiculously young, though.

There was no way he was a doctor.

Wayne smiled, kneeling easily down in front of Tony to get to Peter’s level.

“Hey, Peter.”

The boy looked out from behind Tony’s hip.

“Hi.”

“Nervous?”

“A little.”

“Have you ever been to a psychologist, before?”

“Not that I remember.”

The doctor had been briefed by Pepper over the phone of what Peter’s history was. Not to mention there was no way he hadn’t heard that Tony Stark had found himself a little boy to adopt.

“Well, I can understand you being a little nervous, then. You do know that I don’t give shots, right?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

“And there’s no couch,” he added. “Like you have probably seen in the movies.”

“Oh.”

“We’re just going to hang out and talk. Okay?”

Reassured by the very relaxed manner, Peter nodded and came out from behind Tony, finally – although he _did_ keep hold of the fabric of his pant’s leg.

“About what?”

“I’m going to tell you all about me. And then – if you want – you can tell me a little bit about you.”

Peter took a step forward, letting go of Tony.

“Okay.”

The psychologist smiled at Tony as he stood up.

“We’ll start with fifteen minutes, or so, and see how it goes.”

“I’ll be right here,” Stark assured him.

And Peter.

The two went into Wayne’s office and Tony sat down on the comfortable chair in the waiting room. He picked up one of the magazines, but it wasn't interesting. Instead, he pulled his tablet from his suit pocket.

><><><><><>

It was closer to half an hour when the door opened and the doctor stuck his head out into the waiting room.

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony had looked up at the sound of the door opening.

“Everything alright?”

Wayne smiled, as if he had heard that question a million times from concerned parents.

“We’re great. I’d like you to come in and join us for a minute before we finish for the day.”

Already?

Tony had expected it to be hours – although he really knew that there was no way Peter would be able to pay attention to anything for that long.

“Of course.”

He followed the doctor into the small office, which was neatly appointed, but had posters on the wall. Tony noticed Ironman, Thor, Wonder Woman, Captain America, and Batman, immediately, and was sure that Peter had, as well. The little boy was sitting in a chair by the doctor’s desk. It was extra stuffed with padding so it allowed him to see over the desk without the addition of a booster seat, or books. Peter smiled when Tony walked over and took the seat beside him when the doctor invited him to do so.

“Hi.”

Stark smiled, looking for any indication that the boy wasn't happy, but he didn’t see anything. Peter’s eyes were bright, and his expression cheerful.

“Hey, buddy. How’s it going?”

“Good.”

Wayne took his seat across from them, although Tony had a feeling that the man had been sitting in the chair he, himself, was now in.

“We were talking about superheroes,” the doctor told Tony. He smiled as he folded his hands in front of him on the desk. “Given who you are, it seemed like a good topic.”

“His dad’s name is Bruce Wayne,” Peter said, excitedly. “Isn't that cool?”

“Yes, it is.”

Wayne looked amused, and relaxed – even with Tony.

“Your son is a neat little guy.”

Tony nodded.

“Yes, he is.”

“For today, we just spent some time getting to know each other, making sure that we can get along. Which, I’m happy to say, we shouldn’t have any problem doing. Right, Peter?”

The boy smiled.

“Yeah. He’s neat, too.”

“Good.” Tony didn’t want to have to report to Pepper that Peter had hated the guy she’d chosen for him. “So, you’re going to do this, again?”

“Definitely. I think once a week is plenty. An hour long session – but after school, so Peter doesn’t have to miss his classes. I can’t believe he’s in high school.”

“He’s a smart guy.”

Peter hugged himself at the pride he could hear in Tony’s voice.

Both men smiled at the gesture. Tony knew it meant the boy was at his happiest, and Wayne almost certainly expected that was what it meant.

“Any questions for me?”

Stark shrugged.

“Anything I should be doing differently?”

“He’s a happy kid,” came the reply. “You’re doing fine as far as I can tell.”

Peter shot him a look of love that made Tony want to hug himself.

“Do you have any concerns?” Wayne asked.

“Peter doesn’t sleep well,” Tony reminded him. Pepper had told the billionaire that she’d addressed it with the doctor when she’d spoken with him. “He has weird dreams, and sometimes nightmares.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” The doctor nodded. “It isn’t uncommon for intelligent children to have vivid dreams, and Peter’s past makes nightmares almost a certainty. We’ll work on it as we get to know each other, better. What I’d like is for Peter to try to remember what he dreams about, when one wakes him up. Write it down, or get a voice recorder, if that would work better for him. It might help us figure out what’s going on inside his head.”

The boy smiled at that.

“I’ll have JARVIS help me.”

“You do that.” It was clear that Wayne already knew who JARVIS was. “Schedule the appointments with my receptionist, Mr. Stark, but I think Mondays would do nicely.”

“Thanks.” He looked at Peter. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“It was nice meeting you, Peter.”

“You, too.”

><><><><><

They stopped for lunch at McDonald’s before heading to the tower.

Pepper was in a conference call, so Tony took his son to his workroom where he gave Peter a peek into the chamber that was constructing his newest Ironman suit. One that was going to be even more incredible than the last, he told Peter. The boy was always excited to see the behind the scenes making of the suits. Or the concept designs that Tony sometimes drew out on paper but usually put into his tablet, or onto a display to send directly to JARVIS for the AI’s opinion.

“I could make you a suit,” Tony offered, seating himself on a stool and watching with enjoyment as Peter flipped through his tablet.

Things that no one had ever been allowed to look at before, but that he obviously could trust the boy with.

Peter’s eyes widened.

“A flying one? With thrusters? And rockets and a repulser?”

“No.” The billionaire smiled. “You should probably have your driver’s license before I build you something that flies – and you’re much too young to have rockets and repulsers, don’t you think?”

“I suppose.”

“But it would still be a suit,” Tony pointed out. “A mini-me suit. Whirling rims and all.”

“That would be pretty cool…”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “You’d probably outgrow it, pretty quick, but I make new ones for myself all the time. No reason-“

His watch beeped at him, interrupting, and Peter looked interested.

“What is it?”

“Pepper’s meeting is over. Shall we go tell her about your appointments? I know she’s curious how they went.”

“Okay.”

Tony pocketed his tablet and offered Peter his hand. The two headed for Pepper’s office and found her sitting at her desk, eating a light lunch and taking advantage of a break in her hectic Monday. She smiled when they knocked on the door and walked in and Peter trotted over to the other side of her desk to hug her.

“Hey,” Pepper said, kissing his cheek and then pushing her plate of carrots toward him so he could take one. Which he did. “How did it go?”

“Good.”

“You will be happy to know that Peter is healthy,” Tony reported, even though he’d already done so over the phone with her. “The doctor says that he’s a little small, but there shouldn’t be any surprise about that – and that even little guys can get unexpected growth spurts until they’re almost twenty. He probably won’t be the equal of Steve, but he’s perfectly proportioned.”

“Which we already knew,” Pepper said, smiling at Peter.

The boy nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What did Dr. Wayne say?” she asked. “Or is it none of my business?”

“Peter?” Tony asked. “Do you care if Pepper knows what you and Doctor Wayne talk about?”

He was eight, yes, but there were times when he should get to have a say in things, and this was probably one of them.

“No. She can know,” the boy replied. “He said that his dad is Bruce Wayne.”

Tony rolled his eyes.


	130. 130

“He _also_ said that Peter should try to remember what he dreams about, and that it might help us know what he’s thinking about and maybe tell us why he doesn’t sleep through the night all the time.”

“Did you like him?” Pepper asked Peter.

“Yeah. He’s nice.”

“Did _you_ like him?” she asked Tony.

“Yes. I was a bit surprised at how young he is.”

“He’s young,” she agreed. “But he knows his stuff.” She smiled at Peter. “ _He_ was a smart kid, too. Did he tell you that he started college when he was fifteen?”

“No.” The boy smiled. “That’s neat.”

“You’ve only got him beat by seven years,” Tony pointed out.

“I won’t start those classes until next year,” Peter reminded him, cheerfully, shoving the rest of the carrot into his mouth. “Then it’ll be six.”

“Chew that,” Stark told him. “And take smaller bites, next time.”

“Sorry.” His mouth was full, though, and little pieces of somewhat chewed up carrots threatened to escape.

“What are you boys doing with the rest of your day?” Pepper asked, amused.

“I’m going to get some work done,” Tony replied. “Peter can hang out with me, if he _wants_ , or he can go to day-“ His phone beeped, again, and he smiled when he saw who it was calling. “But first, we’re going to talk to Agent Romanoff.”

“ _Natasha’s_ calling?” Peter asked, spraying carrots onto Pepper’s desk – and onto her lunch.

She rolled her eyes – and felt her stomach turn, just a little – but Peter didn’t notice. He was watching as Tony pulled his phone.

“She _is_.” He answered, and Peter smiled, excitedly, when the super spy’s image came up in a high tech display. “Agent Romanoff? How are you?”

_“Doing well, thank you. How did the doctor day go?”_

None of them thought it odd, at all, that she knew they’d had a doctor day. Yes, she was out of the country working, but she was also adept at keeping track of all things SHIELD related, and Phil and Marie had almost certainly told her why they weren’t watching Peter that day.

“It went well,” Tony replied. “He’s here, do you want to say hi?”

Peter didn’t wait for her reply. He couldn’t. He moved to get into Tony’s bubble, putting himself into her visual line.

“Hi, Natasha.”

She smiled.

_“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”_

“Good. We went to the doctor and then the shrink, and then _McDonald’s_.”

“He’s a _psychologist_ ,” Tony said, reminding Peter and reassuring Romanoff. “And things went well. He’ll be seeing Dr. Wayne, weekly, on Mondays.”

_“Bruce Wayne?”_ Natasha asked.

“No,” Peter said, his hand resting on Tony’s leg as he tried to get even closer to her. “His _dad_ is Bruce Wayne, but isn’t batman.”

“Too bad.”

“When are you coming home?”

_“Soon, I think. Maybe before the weekend.”_

“Really? Wow.”

_“We’re almost done.”_

“Has anyone asked you to be their Valentine, yet?” Peter asked, breathlessly, eyes excited as he tried to climb up into the space between Tony’s lap and the edge of Pepper’s desk.

There wasn't a lot of room, even for a little guy like him. Tony shifted in his chair before Peter could hurt himself, but Peter’s eyes were only on the image on the screen.

Her eyebrow went up, and then she smiled.

_“No. Not, yet. Why?”_

“Will you be _mine_?” Peter asked, hopefully.

_“I’d love to.”_

_“What about me?”_ Clint asked, sticking his head in between Natasha and her phone so that he could be seen.

“You’re _married_ ,” Peter said. “That’s automatic.”

_“Oh. I’d better get Laura some flowers, then, huh?”_

“And _candy_.”

Natasha pushed Clint’s face away so she could see Peter.

_“Are you going to get me flowers?”_

Peter nodded, grinning.

“And candy.”

_“Then it’s a date. I’ll see you on Friday.”_

“Yay!”

Peter shivered with happiness, and Tony smiled, amused.

“You’re sure you’re going to be home? I’m not going to let him buy flowers and candy and be stuck on the doorstep without anyone to give them to.”

_“Yeah. We’re just wrapping things up. I’ll expect you to let me have him for the weekend. He can hang out with us, at the compound. We miss him.”_

“That could probably be arranged.”

Like he had a _choice_? There was no way Peter would allow him to say no.

_“Good. Anything we need to know?”_

“Everything is going well. You?”

_“We’ll discuss it, later,”_ she said, evasively.

“Sounds good.”

_“Bye, Peter.”_

“Bye, Natasha. Bye Clint!”

_“Bye, big man.”_

The display went blank.

“How did you know Valentine’s day is Friday?” Tony asked.

“JARVIS told me, last night.”

“You didn’t want _Pepper_ to be your Valentine?”

The boy smiled, looking over at Pepper and leaning back against his dad, more than comfortable sitting in his lap and being able to see over the desk, better. Being little had some definite disadvantages, sometimes.

“Yeah. But _you’re_ going to ask her, aren’t you? We can’t both.”

“Huh.” Tony wrapped an arm around Peter, putting his phone away with the other hand as he looked at Pepper. “Want to be my Valentine? Apparently, I’m free on Friday, since my son has a date with a spy.”

She hesitated, but only for a moment.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Stark looked at the chewed up carrots on her desk – and her lunch. “Buy you lunch?”

“You already ate.”

“You’re not going to eat _that_ , are you?”

“I’m not planning on it, no.”

“Then we’ll take you to lunch. Peter and I have eaten, yes, but we’re not above a snack. Right son?”

“Right.”

OOOOOOO

They didn’t leave the tower. They didn’t need to. Not with two good restaurants and a cafeteria in the building. While Pepper ate her lunch, and Peter and Tony snacked to keep her company, they told her about Peter’s two appointments and what had been discussed.

“Did you tell the pediatrician about getting sick at the cabin?” she asked.

“I mentioned it,” Tony replied. “She asked how he felt, now, and poked his stomach with her finger a few times. When he didn’t barf all over her, she proclaimed him cured and told him not to do it, again. Which we already knew, right?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah.”

He was smart enough to not need to be taught _that_ lesson more than once.

When they were done, Peter asked if he could go to daycare, and Pepper walked with them when Tony delivered the boy to the facility. Peter ran off to play with the other children, and Stark and Pepper took a leisurely walk, in no hurry to return to her office. She was done for a while, and Tony didn’t have anything on his schedule for the day.

“Did Dr. Wayne say anything else?” Pepper asked.

“No. They weren’t in there for long, though. He gets along with Peter. That’s a good start, really.”

“True.”

“So, what do you want to do, Friday?” he asked her. “Romanoff was serious about taking Peter to the compound, so it’ll just be the two of us.”

“You mean we could eat somewhere other than McDonald’s?”

He snorted, amused.

“We could. Interested?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll get us reservations, then.”


	131. 131

It was an easy week.

Peter’s grade came in from the mars rover assignment and they went out to eat on Thursday to celebrate the A that his team had earned. The rover wouldn’t be going to space, but that didn’t matter. Not to Peter, and certainly not to Tony. Thursday had also found Peter sitting at the arts and crafts table at daycare when Tony had come to pick him up at the end of the day. The boy was busily drawing on a piece of heavy pink construction paper, and he grinned when Tony walked over to him.

“What are you working on, son?”

“Valentine’s Day card,” Peter replied, holding it up for him.

Tony took it, and smiled. It was definitely a card – and with all of the different hearts on it, it had to be for Valentine’s day. Then he frowned.

“Natasha is spelled N-A-T-A-S-H-A.”

Peter nodded, cheerfully.

“I know.”

“This says Pepper.”

“I made that for you to give to Pepper,” Peter told him. He reached for a stack of construction paper that Tony hadn’t noticed amid all the other materials. “ _This_ one is for Natasha.”

It was even more ornate than Pepper’s, and bright red letters proclaimed that it was for Natasha and was from Peter. There was a heart with an arrow on the front and when Tony opened it, he saw a drawing of a red-haired woman holding the hand of a little guy with brown hair.

“Is that you and her?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “I was going to have her holding guns – you know, like when she saved me from those men? But I didn’t know if that was very Valentine’s day-ish.”

“Yeah… it isn’t.” He smiled. “They’re great, buddy. Thank you for making this card for Pepper. I wasn't sure whether I’d have time to get her a card, or not. Now all I need to focus on is candy and flowers.”

“So do I.”

“We’ll stop on the way home and find the perfect ones. For Pepper _and_ for Natasha.”

“Okay.”

They gathered the cards, carefully, and Tony stashed them into Peter’s backpack while the boy put his coat on. Then they headed for the elevator.

“I heard from Nick, just before I came to get you,” Stark told his son as they rode down to the parking garage. “The others are going to be home late, tonight, and everyone is fine.”

“That’s good.”

Tony was relieved. Peter didn’t know what Romanoff and her little group had been up to – and Tony didn’t know, technically – but the rising death toll among seemingly unrelated business people and some military commanders in Europe gave Stark a very good idea of what she was doing. He appreciated it, but was – of course – worried about her and the rest while they were gone. And not just because that wasn't a conversation that he’d have wanted to have with Peter.

A stop at a flower shop that was doing brisk business was all that was needed for both of them to return home with two arrangements of flowers. After being told the significance of various colored roses, the ones Peter chose for Natasha were _yellow_ roses, because he told the woman behind the counter that he _loved_ Natasha but didn’t want her to think that it was anything too serious. Tony hadn’t had any such conversation, and the dozen red roses in the ornate box were beautifully arranged and were set aside for the next evening.

They also picked up heart-shaped boxes of chocolates. One for Pepper, one for Natasha, and another for Tony and Peter – because they needed to be sure that the chocolates were good, after all.

“Any homework?”

Peter shook his head, pulling the cards out of his backpack and setting them on the table beside the flowers and chocolate.

“No. I did it in class.”

“Good. Let’s make dinner and then we’ll play Legos.”

“Great.”

><><><><>

“Those are for me?”

“They are,” Tony confirmed with a slight smile. “But you can’t have them, yet.”

Natasha Romanoff nodded, and then her hand came to rest, lightly, on the box of _red_ roses. She opened them, curiously, and raised an eyebrow when she looked at him.

“Who are these for, then?”

“Those are for _Pepper_.”

“ _Red_ ones, huh?”

“They were out of yellow. What’s the plan?”

“I’m going to hang out here until Peter gets out of school. When Maria delivers him to you, I’ll get my hugs, accept my flowers, candy and card, and will then be taking him back to the compound.”

“For the weekend?” Tony asked. “Or should I come get him, tomorrow?”

“No. We’ll keep him all weekend.” She smiled. “That way you get a chance to do adult things.”

Her face was expressionless, and he rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny anything.

“You’re sure you want him all weekend?”

“Yeah. Clint won’t be there, but everyone else will. If he needs anything, there’ll be plenty of us to provide it.”

“I’ll come get him Sunday afternoon.”

“Or I can bring him to you. Whichever works best. Call me, Sunday morning, and let me know.”

There was a knock on his office door, and Pepper entered without waiting to be admitted. Nothing unusual there. The newcomer smiled when she saw Romanoff.

“You’re home, good.”

Natasha’s smile was genuine.

“Thanks. How have things been, here?”

“Peter’s rover isn’t going to Mars, but they earned an A for the concept, from what I understand, and he ate too many s’mores and threw up all over himself – and Tony – Saturday night.”

“Oh, no. Poor baby.”

“Poor _me_ ,” Stark said. “I almost threw up, too. _And_ he cried – of course – which meant that I couldn’t.”

Both women smiled at that.

“Is it acceptable for me to ask how things went?” Pepper asked Natasha.

Romanoff gave a slight shrug, looking at Tony.

“Is this room secured?”

“JARVIS keeps people from listening in, sure.”

“Your AI is incredible,” she said. “We have an impressive network – of course – but every time we thought we’d flushed the last of the main players, more intel would come in, giving us another name.”

“Does that mean we don’t have to worry about a repeat of the attempt on him?” Tony asked.

“No. We always need to worry about it. But not from this particular group. Not for a long time, anyway. By the time they get things sorted and reorganized, Peter’ll be rounding up his grandchildren to tell them bedtime stories.”

They didn’t ask for clarification, and she didn’t offer, but both nodded, feeling relieved.

“Are you here for a while?”

Natasha nodded.

“I’m waiting on my Valentine.”

“How about we take you to lunch, then?”

“Sounds good.”

><><><><><

“He’s on his way up,” Tony reported, his expression clearly anticipating the reunion between Peter and Natasha. “How do you want to play it?”

“I’ll meet him at the door.”

Romanoff wasn't one for the theatrics that Stark was – and she was looking forward to seeing the little boy who had managed to steal such a large piece of her heart.

Tony moved to sit in his desk chair where he’d be out of the way but still have a good view of the door. A minute later it opened with a soft knock, and Peter walked in, with Maria right behind him. The boy squealed with happiness, immediately.

“Natasha!”

She swept him into her arms with a smile and hugged him, close.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

His face was buried in the soft fabric of her sweater, but Tony was able to hear the reply just fine.

“Good. I _missed_ you.”

“I missed you, too. Are you good?”

“Yeah.” She hugged him even harder. “I’m great.”

Hill looked over at Tony, nodding before she left them, and Stark stood up, but he just came around and leaned against his desk, allowing them their moment. It was a mixture of relief and satisfaction that Natasha loved the boy so much. Peter was a target, they knew, but Natasha was dangerous. The fact that the assassin was so willing to do whatever was needed to make sure the boy was safe was one less thing to worry about, really. The lesson that SHIELD – and Natasha – had doled out to HYDRA, now, wasn't going to be forgotten, and it would be a pointed signal to others, less organized but maybe as rabid, that Peter Stark was a little boy with some dangerous guardians.

And Ironman was dangerous, but he wasn't even close to the top of the deadly list.

Natasha put the boy down, finally, and he wriggled with happiness as he looked up at her.

“I missed you,” he repeated.

She reached down and touched his cheek.

“You look good. Did you grow while I was away?”

“Maybe. I’m _pretty tall_ , now.”

Tony smirked at that, but didn’t say anything.

“Are you ready to spend the weekend at the compound?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah.” He looked over at Tony. “Do I give her the flowers and card, now?”

“It’s Valentine’s day,” he confirmed. “Whenever you want to.”

Peter took Natasha’s hand and led her further into the office, over to his little desk, where the box of candy, the card that he’d made, and the flowers were all waiting. He picked up the card, first, and handed it to the assassin.

“I made you this.”

She was properly amazed by the artwork, and touched. Peter hugged himself while he watched her open it.

“Is this me and you?”

The boy nodded, excitedly.

“Yeah. I’m the _little_ one.”

“It’s incredible.”

“We got flowers, too,” Peter told her. “And candy.”

“Did you try it?”

“We got a box for us,” Peter admitted. “It’s good.”

She bent down and hugged him, again.

“Thank you. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What’s the plan?” Tony asked – even though he knew.

This was for Peter’s benefit.

She straightened, but rested her hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“I’m going to take him to the compound. We anticipate that we’ll want to keep him through to Sunday, so unless something comes up, don’t expect to get him back until then.”

“You good with that, buddy?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded.

“Yeah.” But then he hesitated. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to take Pepper out to dinner, tonight. Then I’ll see what happens. If I get too lonely, I’ll come join you guys.”

“Okay.”

“You’re packed?” Natasha asked the boy.

He nodded, again, and looked at Tony.

They’d packed his little bag the evening before. Tony was sending several changes of clothes; jeans, pajamas, sweats and t-shirts. They’d be left in Peter’s room at the compound so the boy had extra clothes there. As much as he anticipated that Peter would be hanging out with the avengers – if they had their way – he might as well have a wardrobe ready.

The billionaire reached down behind his desk and picked it up, tossing it to Natasha, who caught it easily.

“Give me a hug, goodbye.”

Peter grinned and did just that, hugging his father, tightly.

“You won’t be alone, right?” the boy asked into his neck.

As if on cue, Tony saw Pepper walk into his office, and he smiled, hugging Peter close for another long moment before releasing him and setting him back on his feet.

“Pepper’s going to keep me company.”

Peter followed his gaze, and greeted Pepper with a smile, and then a hug when she walked over to pick him up.

“You’re all packed and ready?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Yeah. Take care of him?”

“Of course. You take care of Natasha.”

“I will.”

She kissed his cheek and set him down.

“We’ll see you Sunday,” Romanoff said, offering Peter the hand that wasn't holding his bag.

“Sounds good.”

Peter waved goodbye and then they were gone.

Tony sighed, and Pepper smiled at the sound.

“He’s only going to be a phone call away.”

“I know.”

And he couldn’t be safer, he knew.

“That little boy has you wrapped around his finger.”

Tony shrugged.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smiled, though, and Pepper stood beside him, leaning against his desk, too.

“When do I get my flowers?”

“Before we leave for the day. Do you need to go home, first?”

“Do I look alright? Are we eating someplace fancy?”

Stark put his hand over hers on his desk.

“I made reservations,” he told her. “But I was thinking it might be nice to make you dinner. I’m getting pretty good at it.”

She arched a brow.

“Are we having _toast_?”

“No.”

“Sounds good, then.”

“And, for the record,” he said, squeezing her hand, lightly. “You look _incredible_.”

Pepper smiled at that.

“Thank you.”

“Are you almost done for the day?”

“One more meeting.”

“Come find me when you’re ready. I’ll drive.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

She left, and Tony watched her go, and smiled when an irreverent streak in him made him wonder what she’d say if he took them through the drive thru at the McDonald’s closest to the house.

“Might be fun to see,” he murmured, walking back around his desk to sit down and finish his own work so he’d be ready when she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments, guys - especially since you can only hit the kudos button so many times and I know this story has grown to lengthy proportions!


	132. 132

While Tony and Natasha (and Pepper) all had first-hand proof that Peter was almost guaranteed to fall asleep on a long car ride, the little boy was too excited to fall asleep on the way to the compound. Talking to her on the phone wasn't the same as seeing her in person, and he’d missed her. He chatted, happily, with Natasha, telling her about the cabin in the woods, and the frozen lake, and then about both doctor appointments that he’d had earlier that week.

For her part, she listened with interest, making the right noises at the right time and asking questions to prove that she was paying attention. When Peter asked her what _she’d_ been doing, however, she’d simply grown secretive and smiled.

“Secret Avenger things. I can’t tell you.”

“Or you’ll have to kill me?” Peter asked, grinning over at her and clearly not too concerned that he was going to meet his demise from asking her questions.

“That’s only in _movies_ ,” she assured him. “We don’t really do that.”

Usually.

“Oh.”

She was adroit at changing the subject – he was easy to manipulate that way, even though she didn’t like that word associated to her relationship with the little boy. He was just a little guy, after all, and so excited, and _excitable_. She asked about what he and Tony had been up to, and what story they’d been reading at bedtime, and Peter was more than willing to allow the conversation to go whatever direction she steered it. He didn’t even realize that she was doing it.

Which was the whole point, of course.

They pulled up to the compound main entrance, and Peter made an excited noise when he saw that Sam was sitting out on a bench, bundled in a warm jacket, but obviously waiting for them. The man pulled Peter from the car as soon as Natasha stopped it and turned the engine off, and he hugged him, cheerfully.

“Hey, Peter! What have you been up to, pal?”

“We went to the boonies and I had s’mores and threw up on Tony.”

Since it was the last thing that he and Natasha had been discussing on their way in, it was the first thing that the boy thought of when the question was asked.

Sam smiled, and set him down, tousling his hair, even as he put the hood of the coat Peter was wearing up to ward off any chill.

“We’re not having s’mores, then.”

“What _are_ we having?” Peter asked, taking his bag so that Natasha could carry in her flowers, candy, and card.

“We’re going to have tacos,” Sam said, taking the flowers from Romanoff and opening the box. “Who gave you these?”

“My _valentine_ ,” she replied, smiling at the boy. “If you’re nice to me, I’ll share my candy.”

“You got her _candy_?”

Peter nodded as they walked to the door.

“Yeah. Me and Tony had some, too. It’s good,” he added, helpfully.

“You didn’t bring _me_ any candy?”

“I brought the other box,” Peter said, holding up the bag he was carrying. “There’s some to share.”

“Now you’re talking. Let’s get you to your room and unpack, so we can get some dinner. We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Who has?” Peter asked, excited.

“Some of the SHIELD people. Steve. Me. Nick. Natasha – of course.”

“Wow.”

“Yup.” They walked down the now familiar corridor that led to Peter’s room – as well as Tony’s. “Oh, _and_ we made a few changes to your room…”

“You _did_? What?”

“Have to wait and see,” he said, mysteriously, making Romanoff smile.

Since they weren’t too far from the door by then, it wasn't that long before Peter was opening the door. The little boy froze, though, with his hand on the knob and his eyes widened.

“ _Bunkbeds_?! Wow.”

Sam looked pleased, and Natasha did, too.

“Yup. What do you think?”

“That’s awesome!”

“We thought you’d approve,” Natasha said, smiling at his excitement. “It’s better than putting a rollaway bed in, if you have company with you when you come to visit.”

Not to mention, a little bird had told them just how excited Peter had been to have bunkbeds at the cabin, and it had only made sense to have them installed in his room at the compound, as well.

The bunk beds weren’t two twin beds stacked on each other. The _top_ bed was a twin, but the bottom one was a full-sized, and was turned the other direction. Ostensibly, it was to make it look roomier, but really it was because they figured if Peter fell off the top bunk in the middle of the night, or something, he’d land on the bigger bed and not hit his head, or hurt himself.

Avengers could be over-protective, sometimes, too.

“Thanks!”

Peter dropped his little bag on the bottom bed and immediately climbed up onto the top. Unlike the beds at the cabin, this one was right on level with his window, so he could look outside without even getting out of bed, now.

Sam walked over to the end of the top bunk, looking up at the boy.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he told Peter. “We still need to eat dinner.”

He offered his arms to Peter and the boy moved over so he could be lifted down from the bed.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Both looked pleased that he was so happy with the surprise.

“Sam’s going to help you unpack your things,” Natasha told him – _and_ Wilson. “Then I’ll meet you and the others in the lounge. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Where are you going?” Sam asked, curiously.

“To put my flowers in water and find a place to display them so I can show them off, properly.”

Peter grinned at that, happy that she liked them.

The two watched her gather her flowers, candy, and card and leave and then Wilson turned to Peter.

“What did you bring?”

“Clothes and my bear.”

And his Lego batman. He didn’t need a lot of things when he visited the compound, since they had a varied and wide selection of toys and activities already set up there for him. The Avengers and SHIELD had never hosted a child before Tony had introduced them to Peter, but they adapted, easily, and were enjoying themselves trying to outdo each other coming up with new and more impressive ways to entertain him.

As such, it didn’t take long for Sam to help Peter unpack is bag and shove all the clothes into the dresser. Wilson noted that there were far more than he was going to need for the weekend, so he assumed – correctly – that Stark had sent extras so they could stay at the compound for future visits.

“Sleeping on the top, or the bottom, tonight?” he asked the little boy, holding up the stuffed bear so he’d know which pillow was going to be needed.

Peter smiled.

“Top.”

“Top, it is.” Wilson put the bear neatly into place where Peter would find it, later, and then swept the boy into his arms, dangling him upside down and swinging him as he headed for the door. He’d missed him, too.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“So am I. Let’s go eat.”

Peter made a happy noise that echoed in the corridor when Sam turned him upright, again, and then set him on his feet so they could walk side by side to the lounge.

><><><><><>

Tacos were easy. A little messy, yes, but simple. Even for an eight year old with little hands. Sam led Peter into the lounge and over to a table where Natasha and Steve were sitting. The boy ran up and greeted Steve, who picked him up to hug him because it was easier than leaning over and doing it – besides, Peter weighed next to nothing, so it wasn't that difficult to do.

“Hey, there’s my favorite sticky guy.”

“Hi, Steve.”

Rogers smiled, tousled his hair and then set him down so Peter could climb into the chair with the thick books stacked on it.

“How have you been?”

“Good.” The boy saw that Natasha had put her dozen yellow roses in a vase and set it in the middle of the table, along with the card, and the box of chocolate. “Did you see Natasha’s flowers?”

“I _did_. The perfect Valentine’s trifecta. Card, candy, and flowers. Well done.”

“Tony helped.”

“Of course, he did. He’s _supposed_ to. What’s he doing this weekend while we keep you company?”

“I don’t know,” Peter admitted, looking over when a couple of servers brought platters of taco ingredients over to set on the table beside the flowers. “Pepper’s coming over, I think. Or they’re going out to dinner.”

“Or both,” Natasha said. “Let’s eat. I’m starved.”

“What are we doing tonight?” Sam asked, putting a couple of shells on a plate and handing it to Peter so the boy could point to what he wanted in his tacos.

“It’s pretty cold out, tonight,” Natasha said, looking at the boy who was watching Sam load up his tacos and also watching her with interest. “We’ll play outside, tomorrow, and stick with something in the gym, or games in here, tonight. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“The poker game is in here, tonight,” Steve reminded the others. “We’ll stick to the gym, so Peter doesn’t get bored with them.”

“I know how to play poker,” the boy said, shoving a handful of shredded cheese into his mouth. “May taught me. And one of her boyfriends.”

“Poker?” Sam asked. “Why would she do that?”

Who taught a little kid how to play poker?

“And blackjack, and horse racing, and lots of other things. Her and her boyfriend played online,” Peter told them, picking the olives off his taco and making Sam roll his eyes. “I help with card counting and statistical odds, and told them what horses to bet on.”

Natasha frowned.

“You can count cards?”

“Sure. It’s easy math.” Peter took a big bite of his taco, spilling half of the items out of the other end of the shell. “Want me to teach you?”


	133. 133

“Chew your food,” Steve said, quickly, worried that the little boy was going to choke trying to talk with his mouth full.

Sam looked at Peter, speculatively, and then at Natasha, who frowned, understanding immediately what he was thinking.

“No.”

“ _What_? Aw, come on Nat. The guys are already going to be here. It’s not like we’re setting the game up, or anything.”

“They’re playing for money and Tony wouldn’t approve of exposing to Peter to any of it.”

“I already _know_ how to play,” Peter pointed out, uncertain what Sam was trying to talk her into, but wanting to make sure she understood. “I’m _exposed_.”

“See?” Sam said. “He’s _exposed_. We’re just going to experiment. To see what he can do. We’re going to experiment, tomorrow, anyway, right?”

“On his _abilities_ ,” she said, with a scowl. “Not on his gambling prowess.”

“We’re experimenting on me?” Peter asked, interested.

“On your _belly_ ,” Romanoff told him. “Yes. Not how well you play cards.”

“Those are abilities, too,” Wilson said, reasonably. “Help me out, Steve.”

Rogers shook his head.

“Peter’s just a little guy. He shouldn’t be gambling.”

“What if we just had them playing for candy?” Sam looked at Peter. “You’d play poker for candy, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

The boy looked eager.

“They’re not going to want to play for _candy_ ,” Natasha reminded Wilson. “We can set something up for him, later.”

“Please, Natasha?” Peter begged, his eyes large and hopeful. “I could do it. _Really_. It isn’t even dangerous.”

“It _is_ dangerous,” she disagreed. “Tony will kill all of us.”

“What if Stark says it’s okay?” Sam asked. “Fury and the guys play for chips. Theirs can be money, Peter’s can be worth m&ms or something.”

“Plain or peanut ones?” Peter asked, looking interested.

“Whichever you want. I’ll call Tony and ask. You just look cute in case he wants to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

“Sam…”

Steve didn’t look convinced – although he _did_ look a little curious.

“We need to know what he can do, right?”

Peter was still holding his taco, but he looked at Rogers, excitedly, and Steve found that he wasn't immune to that hopeful gaze.

“You really want to play?” Steve asked. “You don’t _have_ to, you know? Just because Sam wants to see you do it.”

The little boy nodded.

“Yeah. Please?”

Steve looked at Natasha.

“What do you think?”

She couldn’t say no. Not with Peter looking so hopefully at her. But she wasn't willing to take the heat for something like that.

“If Tony agrees.”

Peter made a happy gasp and turned to Sam.

“No. Finish eating, first,” Steve said, well aware that the distraction would be too much for Peter and he’d never eat his dinner. “Then you can call. And chew your food,” he added. “ _And_ you have to have at least three tacos and you can’t gobble. Fair?”

Sam wanted to protest, but Peter was too used to obeying – especially since it was Captain America.

“Okay.”

><><><><>

“I can’t believe this…”

Tony raised an eyebrow, looking at Pepper as he rolled up his sleeve.

“What can’t you believe?” he asked. “That I’m making you dinner? Or that we’re not having macaroni and cheese and chocolate chips?”

She smiled.

“You don’t make him macaroni and cheese and chocolate chips. Do you?”

“We had it, once,” Stark confirmed. “It wasn't bad.”

“Ugh. That’s _ghastly_.”

Tony didn’t disagree.

“He’s a little boy.”

“You’re doing amazing with him.”

“It’s a learning process, believe me.”

“I do.” Pepper looked around the kitchen, noticing that there were all kinds of little signs that the house was inhabited by a youngster. Including the childishly drawn pictures that were attached to the metal front and side of the refrigerator and the stack of boardgames that were sitting on the table. “But you’re a quick study.”

“Thank you.” He washed his hands and pulled a couple of salmon filets from the fridge. “You’ll be pleased to note that there _are_ no chocolate chips in tonight’s menu.”

“That’s a relief.”

They chatted about her day, for the most part, as he cooked them a simple and grown up meal that both of them knew Peter would have turned his little pug nose up at if Tony had offered it to him. Pepper, however, was impressed and didn’t bother to hide it. Tony had waved her back into her barstool when she’d offered to help him set the table with fancy china that she didn’t even know he’d had, and had put her red roses in an ornate vase that sparkled in the light of the two candles that he lit.

He’d even offered her his arm to escort her the twelve feet to the table, and had kissed her hand, lightly, when he’d released her to pull her chair out.

“We’re doing it properly,” he told her, draping a napkin in her lap. “It’s a real _date_ , right?”

“Yes.”

He smiled at that, and went into the kitchen, again, returning with two dishes, both already plated with the salmon, roasted potatoes, and steamed vegetables that he’d prepared. She watched him set them down, and then he opened a bottle of wine and poured for both of them.

“No chocolate milk, either,” he said with a teasing light in his dark eyes.

“I’m developing a taste for it.”

“I’ll serve it at breakfast.”

Pepper smiled, taking a sip of her wine.

“I’ll still be here in the morning?”

“If you want.” He reached for her hand. “We can call it a _sleepover_ , to keep it from being weird.”

“We should discuss this,” she said, taking hold of his hand. “Now. Before we allow things to go too far.”

“I _want_ them to go far, though,” the billionaire said. “You’re beautiful, Pepper. And wonderful, and brilliant, and while I’m not ready to plunge headfirst into asking you to marry me, I’m absolutely willing to address the idea that you and I are a better match than you might think. _And_ prepared to argue with you about it, if need be.”

She didn’t look too surprised by the statement. And, he was privately relieved to see that she didn’t look annoyed, or disgusted, either.

“Then we should _discuss_ it,” she told him, emphasizing the word that she’d already used, once. “Because I don’t feel like arguing with you.”

“That’s good.” He sat down, but he didn’t release her hand. “You go, first.”

That way he counter any argument that she made.

Pepper smiled.

“I have a confession to make.”

“Oh?”

A nod and her smile turned slightly amused.

“I saw a recording of a conversation between you and Peter that you probably didn’t intend for me to see.”

“Why am I suddenly nervous?” he asked, only half-joking. “What conversation? When?”

“You sent it to me,” she replied. “Technically, _JARVIS_ did, but you told him to. You and Peter were making meatloaf, and you wanted me to see you doing it.”

“Okay…”

Pepper smiled at the slightly guarded tone in the single drawn out word.

“And Peter asked you about smart people only dating smart people – because that was what his aunt had told him. Smart people can’t date idiots.”

His expression grew slightly pained, and her smile widened because she knew he was remembering the conversation, now.

“His aunt wasn't the greatest role model.”

“No. And I was very impressed with the way you explained just how wrong she was without crushing his memories of her. She was someone that he loved, even if she did and said a million things that obviously confused him.”

“She was wrong,” Tony agreed. “But he was right. I could date you. Not because he likes you, but because I like you.” He hesitated, and she saw him steeling himself. “Very much.”

Her expression softened, and the hand he was holding tightened, slightly, in his grip.

“Tony…” she said, her tongue moistening her suddenly dry lips. “I-“

_“Incoming call from Sam Wilson,”_ JARVIS announced – almost sounding apologetic.


	134. 134

He hesitated, but only for the briefest of moments.

“It’s _Peter_ ,” she said, smiling. “You need to answer.”

“I know.” He let her hand go, but only after he squeezed it. “Put him through, JARVIS. Visual, as well.”

The almost invisible display closest to the table lit up, and the two saw Sam’s head and shoulders come on, and next to him, looking excited, was Peter.

_“Hey, Tony,”_ Wilson said _. “Sorry to interrupt.”_

“It’s fine.” He couldn’t help the deadpan tone, though. “Is everything alright?”

It almost certainly was, to judge from Peter’s expression. He didn’t look sick, or injured.

_“Yeah. We want to run an experiment on Peter, and Nat and Steve said we should ask for your permission, first.”_

“I thought you were going to do that, tomorrow?”

_“Not the stomach thing,”_ Sam said, shaking his head. _“We_ are _doing that tomorrow. This is a different one.”_

Stark frowned.

“What?”

_“They’re paying poker, tonight,”_ Peter said, clearly unable to hold himself still – or keep from speaking up. _“Can I play, too?”_

“You know how to play poker?” Tony asked.

“He’s good at it,” Pepper confirmed, surprising Tony – and Sam. “We played, once.”

Tony had seen them playing Go Fish in the office, once.

“You played poker with him?”

“Yes. While we were waiting for a movie to buffer one night, at my place.”

_“Can I play?”_ Peter asked. _“Please?”_

“What does Natasha say?” Tony asked. “She’s your Valentine. Will she feel abandoned?”

_“She can play, too_ ,” Sam told them both. _“It’s not exclusive. Just a once in a while game that Fury likes to have. Team building, that kind of thing.”_

_“Can I play?”_ Peter asked, again, too eager and hopeful to be polite about waiting for the adults to discuss it. _“I won’t ask for anything, ever again. Honest.”_

“You don’t ask for anything, now,” Tony pointed out. He shrugged, though, and wished that he was there to hug the boy. “Yes. As long as they don’t allow anyone to smoke around you, and they don’t teach you any bad habits – and Natasha is fine with it – I don’t have a problem with it.”

_“Yay!”_ Peter vanished from the display, and Sam smiled.

“No smoking, and no drinking,” Stark told the other man.

_“Right. I’ll make sure of it.”_

The display went dark, and vanished, again, and Tony reached for Pepper’s hand, again.

“What did he mean when he said they were going to experiment on Peter, tomorrow?” Pepper asked, giving him her hand, but obviously distracted.

“They’re going to try and test the stomachache theory.”

“That he knows something is going to happen because his stomach hurts?”

“Correct.”

“How are they going to do that?” She asked. “Do I even _want_ to know?”

“They’re not going to do anything crazy. Fury has it set up. Some kind of simulator with people hiding in the corridors or something. Just to see if he can feel that they’re there, or something.”

“And if he _can_ …?”

“Then he’s even more amazing than before. But still a little kid and not an Avenger.”

“You’ll make sure of that?”

“Yes.” Tony looked down at her hand. “But back to our previous topic… before we were interrupted…”

Pepper smiled.

“You mean when you were telling me that you liked me? _Very much_?”

“Right. I _do_. If you saw the conversation, then you know that I’m interested in pursuing a relationship with you – as long as we could do it without making it awkward. Or ruining this _new_ relationship that we have, because I like being so relaxed with you.”

“I do, too,” she admitted.

“ _And_ you like me…?” he asked.

“Yes.”

The billionaire smiled, looking just a little relieved. And then his expression changed, and his thumb rubbed against hers.

“Enough to let me kiss you?”

She nodded, and he didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. Tony leaned in and pressed his lips, tenderly, against hers. He held still for a moment, and now he _was_ giving her the opportunity to cut the kiss short. She didn’t, though, and when he pulled back, finally, watching her for any indication that she was uncomfortable, she simply smiled.

“That was nice.”

“Yes. It was.” He smiled, too, feeling a little relieved, and backing off to take his own chair, once more. “Your dinner’s getting cold, Pep. Eat.”

They had all night, after all, even if there was only a good night kiss when he took her home. It was still a win, as far as he was concerned, and he was pleased that they were both relaxed when they started eating, again, and Pepper started questioning him on how they were going to experiment with Peter the next day.

><>><><>

There was some good-natured grumbling when the poker players arrived in the lounge and were informed by Nick Fury that they were going to have another player join them that evening. Peter was sitting in his chair, the books under him allowing him to see over the table, easier, and looked so excited that even if Natasha hadn’t been sitting beside him absently sharpening a knife while she kept watch over her young charge, they still wouldn’t have complained too loudly.

Instead they traded the cash that they’d all brought (and it wasn't high-stakes, by any means) into chips and settled at the table. Peter was given a stack of chips, as well; three different colors, representing peanut m&ms, plain m&ms, and the high value peanut butter m&ms. The little boy grinned at the others, easily, which made sense because he knew all the players that were there.

Sam played, and Happy, and Phil. Nick played, as did Steve. Normally Clint would play, the boy was told, but he was married and had Valentine’s day duties with his wife – not to mention he was enjoying the first real weekend home with his family since they’d come back from Europe. The other two players were SHIELD agents, and they were familiar to Peter, as well.

“You’re not playing?” Peter asked Natasha.

“I’m going to _watch_ ,” she told him, putting the knife down and resting her hand, lightly, on the back of his chair. “And make sure no one starts cheating.”

“You know how to play five card draw?” Fury asked Peter.

The boy nodded.

“Texas Hold ‘em?”

“Anything,” the little boy assured him.

“Deal, Nick,” Sam suggested. “We’ll see how he does.”

><><><><

They both cleaned the kitchen when they were done eating, and then Pepper suggested that she wouldn’t mind relaxing in front of the gas fireplace watching a movie.

“A grown up movie,” she added. “Nothing animated, or with talking animals, or princesses.”

Tony smiled, leading her over to the sofa.

“That can probably be arranged. JARVIS? An adult movie, please?”

“Not a _porno_ ,” Pepper said, quickly, well aware that the AI might take the verbiage literally. “Something like a romantic comedy.”

The billionaire smirked, settling on the couch, first, to allow her to decide how close she wanted to sit beside him. To his delight, she took her shoes off and curled up beside him, leaning against him easily, and obviously relaxed. Tony put an arm around her.

“Are you warm enough?”

“I’m good, thank you.” She rested her head on his shoulder, and the movie started. “I wonder how Peter’s doing.”

“He’s fine,” Tony assured her, kicking his shoes off and propping his feet up on the coffee table.

“You sound fairly certain of that…”

“Because JARVIS is at the compound,” he reminded her, stealing a quick kiss. “If something happens, I’ll know before anyone even calls to tell me.”

><><><><><>

“You realize we don’t have that many m&ms in the compound, right?”

Peter smiled, hugely, as he raked in the small pile of chips from the center of the table, adding them to his impressive pile.

“I don’t mind. It’s for fun, really.”

Besides, even though they weren’t marshmallows, Peter had learned his lesson about gorging on candy and it wasn't going to happen again, any time soon.

“Who taught you how to play poker?” Steve asked, his own stacks of chips about where they had started at the beginning of the evening.

He was a fairly conservative player, after all.

“My aunt May,” was the response. “And one of her boyfriends. They played online. A lot.”

“Which explains why you can’t bluff for anything,” Sam pointed out.

It was one of the many tells that the little boy had – and the reason that the others still had any chips, at all, really. When Peter was dealt a good hand, he wriggled, happily, or smiled, or his eyes grew wide and excited. That was when the others knew that it was time to fold.

“Yeah.” He wasn't concerned. Like he’d said; the game was all in fun for him – and it was fun for him to play with the grown ups. “I still have stuff to learn.”

“You’re pretty good, though,” Fury had to admit.

“I use math.”

He’d tried to explain it once, already, when Sam had commented on Peter guessing that Wilson didn’t catch the straight that he’d tried to draw on. The adults around the table weren’t stupid, by any means, but they also weren’t ready for a lecture on statistics and probability, either. They were there to relax and enjoy team time. And time with Peter, too, since he was there.

That was an added bonus – and it was fun for them, as well.

“We’re going to call it a night,” Natasha said. “It’s bedtime for one card shark.”

“Awwww…” Peter didn’t have any trouble figuring out that she wasn't talking about Nick. “Do I have to…?”

She smiled at the question – and at the way the men around the table were watching, clearly amused at seeing the eight-year-old square off against the deadliest woman in the world.

“Yes. Tell everyone goodnight.”

“Awww… Natasha… five more minutes?”

The assassin crossed her arms over her breasts, but she wasn't completely immune to those big brown eyes.

“One more hand,” she said. “Then you’re going to bed, young man.”

“Okay.”

“You're supposed to _negotiate_ , Peter,” Phil told him. “She says one hand, and you say five. Then she says two, and you say four and you meet in the middle and get three hands instead of one.”

The boy stared at Coulson for a long moment, shocked, and then looked up at her.

_“Ten hands!”_

Romanoff rolled her eyes.

“We’re _not_ negotiating. Two hands, or I’m eating all your m&ms.”

Peter smiled.

“Deal.”


	135. 135

The movie wasn't boring, but they were both relaxed – even holding each other as they were – and they dozed off somewhere toward the end. The screen was black when JARVIS spoke up, softly, to avoid startling, even as he was attempting to wake them.

_“Incoming call from Natasha Romanoff.”_

Tony sat up, just as Pepper opened her eyes and did the same, looking around, sleepily. She’d been leaning against him, slightly, with her head on his shoulder, but had lost that comfortable position when he’d sat up.

“Everything alright?” she asked, looking at her watch.

“Yeah. They’re probably winding down…” He’d planned on calling before going to bed – just to check on things. It appeared that Natasha had simply beaten him to it. “Put her through, JARVIS. Video, too, please.”

The display lit up, again (no sense using the small screen of a phone when you had a much bigger TV one, available) and Natasha was suddenly looking at the two of them. From the looks of the background, she was sitting on the bottom bunk of the new bed that had been put into Peter’s bedroom at the compound (after Fury had brought it up with Tony to make sure the boy hadn’t fallen off the one in the cabin).

_“Hey, sorry if I’m interrupting…”_

Her expression was amused, and Tony realized that he and Pepper were still somewhat close to each other on the sofa. He didn’t move, though, and even though Pepper was just as perceptive – if not more – he was pleased that she didn’t move aside, either.

“You’re _not_ ,” he assured Romanoff. “How is the card game going?”

_“It’s done,”_ she replied. “ _And he cleaned up.”_

“So he really _does_ know how to play?”

_“He’s pretty good,”_ she confirmed. _“Not the best at bluffing, though.”_ She smirked. _“It’ll give you something to work on, later.”_

“Is he there?”

_“Changing into his pajamas, but don’t go anywhere, because he won’t take much longer, and then-“_

_“Hi, dad!”_ Peter was suddenly climbing into Natasha’s lap, looking at the display on her phone, eagerly. His eyes lit up when he saw that Tony wasn't alone. _“Hi, Pepper!”_

Tony smiled, already missing having the little guy in his own lap. Bony knees and all.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hi, honey,” Pepper added, leaning forward just a little. “Are you ready for bed?”

_“Yeah.”_ Peter leaned back against Natasha, who had her arms around him, clasped in front to hold him still. _“I played poker and won a lot of candy.”_

“You didn’t _eat_ it, though, right?” Tony asked. “Romanoff isn’t filling you full of sugar before bedtime?”

The spy rolled her eyes, but Peter just shook his head.

_“No. She said I can have it on Sunday – right before you come to get me.”_

_“Whaaaaat?”_ Natasha’s eyes widened in exaggerated innocence, and one hand moved to cover Peter’s mouth. _“Don’t listen to him, Tony. He’s tired and not thinking straight.”_

Peter giggled behind the hand over his mouth, his brown eyes happy at the treatment. It made Tony smile, and he heard Pepper make a soft noise beside him.

“Do you need anything?” he asked his son.

The boy shook his head, his smile broad when Natasha lowered her hand.

_“I’m good.”_

“Nat? You good, too?”

_“I’m going to read him a story and put him to bed – and then I’m going to go eat all his candy.”_

_“Hey!”_

She smirked, and Tony and Pepper both smiled in response.

“Thanks.”

_“Goodnight!”_

“Night, son.”

“Goodnight, Peter.”

The call ended and he stretched, getting up and looking at Pepper.

“It’s late,” he said, offering her his hand to help her to her feet, in case she was as stiff as he was from sitting so long. “Let me find my shoes and I’ll take you home.”

She smiled up at him.

“Or… I could stay the night.”

His hand tightened on hers, and he felt a rush of warmth go through him.

“Or you could stay the night,” he agreed, pulling her into his arms.

Pepper went, willingly, and kissed him.

><><><><>

Natasha dumped Peter off her lap and onto the bed next to where she was sitting.

“You brushed your teeth?”

He nodded, sprawled on the bed and grinning up at her.

“Yes.”

“Washed your face?”

“No. Was I supposed to?”

“No, I suppose you don’t need to worry about that, yet.” The assassin stood up and picked him up, hugging him, tight. “Top bunk? Or bottom?”

“Top.”

“I can’t cuddle next to you while I read to you, if you’re on the top…”

_“Bottom!”_

That made her smile.

“What are we reading?”

“Something _long_.”

“Define long…”

“A _whole_ story.”

“Does Tony usually read you a whole story?”

“No.” the boy smiled up at her. “We’re negotiating.”

Phil was a dead man, she decided, even as her smile widened, amused.

“I’ll read you three sentences,” she countered.

“Four.”

“Aim a little higher,” she told him, walking over to the little bookcase. “Four sentences aren’t very many.”

If he was going to learn to negotiate, she might as well help him learn it, right, after all

“Oh.” He watched her look through the books that were on the shelves. “A _hundred_ sentences.”

“I don’t want to count out sentences,” Natasha said, choosing one of the anthology books that was filled with short stories – mainly adventure stories and mysteries. “How about one full story, but a _short_ one?”

“Five full stories…”

Romanoff set the book down, leaned over and cupped his face in her palms, smiling down at him.

“Two.”

“Six.”

“Wrong direction…”

“Four.”

“Three.”

“Okay.”

“Get under the covers.”

The boy did what he was told, getting himself situated and then going still, watching her. Natasha settled herself beside him, and Peter cuddled up against her. The boy had had a long day and was ready to be quiet for a while. He put his head on her belly, looking at the pictures as she opened the book and started to read a random story.

It wasn't too surprising to her that he fell asleep before she had finished the first tale. She finished it, still reading aloud, because she wanted to know how it ended. When she was done, she closed the book and set it on the stand next to the bed. Then she stretched, and quietly detatched herself from his limp grip before she kissed him, and then slipped out of the bed, leaving him to sleep.

The guys were still there, after all, and she wanted a chance to discuss the experiment they were going to do with Peter the next day. It wasn't dangerous – at all – and it was almost simplistic in the basic plan, but she wanted to make sure that everything was ready and that they had enough people to cover every angle that she and Steve wanted to explore.

Romanoff glanced back at the little boy, sleeping in the bed, and then turned the light off and left, automatically looking around for anyone or anything that might pose a threat to him. None emerged, and she knew that as she left JARVIS would be taking over the duty of keeping an eye on him.

It worked out well, that way.


	136. 136

“What are you going to do today?” Pepper asked Tony the next morning. “Drive out to the compound to watch them experiment on Peter?”

“ _With_ Peter, not _on_ ,” Stark corrected with a slight smile, well aware that she was teasing him. “And no. I don’t want to distract him. Which was one of the reasons they wanted to take him to the compound, this weekend.”

“The others being…?”

“I think Romanoff has a crush on him.”

She snorted, delicately, amused, and smiled when he brought her a cup of coffee.

They’d woken in his bed, in each others’ arms, and rather than it being awkward, it had been nice. Nice enough that it had been a while before they made their way to the kitchen, stopping for a shower, and to get dressed for their day – just in case they received a call from the compound.

“I can understand why. He’s cute.”

“As cute as his father?” Tony asked, sitting down across from her so he could watch her as he took a sip of his coffee.

“He’s younger, and less hairy.”

“I can’t compete with a cute little kid.”

She smiled, because he didn’t look upset about that, at all, very much secure and confident.

“Luckily, you don’t need to compete with him.”

“Good thing.” He turned, slightly, as if to tell her that he wasn't speaking to her. “JARVIS? What’s Peter doing?”

_“Sleeping.”_

“Still?”

Pepper glanced at her watch.

“It’s still early. Especially if he was up during the night.”

_“Which he was,”_ the AI confirmed.

“How do you know?” Tony asked. “There isn’t a monitor in his room – because he _left_ his room.”

_“Correct. He left his room at four minutes after midnight, and ended up in the lounge.”_

“Did he sleep on one of the sofas there?” Pepper asked, comfortable with conversing with the AI, directly.

_“No. Surveillance indicates that he played Legos in the lounge for twenty-seven minutes and was interrupted by – incoming call from Natasha Romanoff.”_

“Put her through.”

_“Good morning,”_ Romanoff said, looking cheerful and awake, despite the early hour.

“Agent Romanoff,” Tony replied. “How fares my boy?”

She smiled.

_“He’s asleep.”_ She turned the camera of her phone, slightly, and Tony saw that she was still in bed, but Peter was sound asleep beside her, with his bear tucked against his side _. “I found him in the lounge, early this morning, and decided that he might be missing daddy, so I took him back to bed with me, rather than leave him alone.”_

Now it was Tony who smiled, watching the little boy sleep.

“Is he alright?”

_“He’s fine, Tony. I just didn’t consider the fact that he wouldn’t be able to climb into bed with you if he was lonely. Tonight, we’ll figure out something. Maybe I’ll have Steve take the bottom bunk so he has someone to cuddle with.”_

“He’s a pretty good cuddler,” Stark agreed.

_“That, he is.”_

“What do you have planned for today?”

_“We’ll feed him, keep him occupied playing outside for a while, and then after lunch, we’ll run him through the warehouse that we have set up – to see if he can feel people hiding, or if it’s something that only warns him if there’s danger.”_

“Obviously you’re not going to be actually threatening him, and if it only comes up when he’s in danger, nothing will happen.”

_“Right.”_

“Need me there?”

They’d already discussed it, but if Romanoff had changed her mind and wanted him to be present, then he would be.

_“No. Only if you feel a burning desire to be here. Otherwise, we’ll call it an_ Avenger _experiment instead of a_ dad _one.”_

“Then I will find something else to do to occupy myself,” Tony told her, glancing over at Pepper, who hadn’t said a word, and wasn't on the right side of the table to show up in the video call.

Pepper smiled – and so did Natasha.

_“You do that. I’m going to nap for a while and cuddle with your son until he’s ready to start his day.”_

“Thanks.”

_“You’re welcome.”_

The call ended, and Tony took another sip of his coffee.

“I seem to have a clear schedule, today. Want to spend more time with me?”

“Are you going to make me breakfast?”

“You could make me _pancakes_ ,” he countered.

“I’m the _guest_ ,” she reminded him.

“True.” He reached for her hand and smiled when she took his. “I’ll make breakfast. Then we can go for a walk. In the park, though.”

“Sounds good.”

><><><><><

“So what do I do?”

“You walk through the maze,” Natasha replied. “And pay attention to your stomach. If it starts hurting, tell me. Or if anything feels weird to you.”

“Are things going to jump out at me?” Peter asked, uncertainly, looking at the entrance to the large room that had been so carefully prepared. “It sounds scary.”

She shook her head, and reached for his hand.

“No one’s going to jump out at you,” Romanoff assured him. “I’ll walk with you, too. What we’re doing, is trying to see if your stomach will tell you when someone is close by that you don’t see. Or if you have any other abilities that we haven’t discovered, yet.”

He understood that; they’d discussed it over breakfast with Sam and Steve. But what had seemed exciting when they’d discussed it, now looked scary. Peter was a pretty little guy, after all.

“Okay.”

He didn’t release her hand, though, and he trembled, just a little, when they walked into the room and along a large partition that formed a ‘wall’.

“Feel anything?”

“No.”

His stomach was a little tense, but he knew it wasn't the same as the ache that he’d felt when the two men had tried to kidnap him. They walked on, with Natasha allowing Peter to set the pace. She was beginning to think that maybe the whole thing was a bust and that she should call a stop to it to keep him from being scared when Peter suddenly stopped at an intersection.

“You okay?” she asked.

“There’s something over there…” He pointed with his free hand toward a corner where Romanoff knew a SHIELD agent was crouched. “Not scary, and my stomach doesn’t hurt, but I feel it… it’s weird.”

“Very good…” Natasha murmured, squeezing his hand, lightly, but letting him go, because he was relaxing. They were walking though a little warehouse type room, after all, and there wasn't anything for him to be afraid of, he knew that now. “Let’s keep walking.”

“Yeah.”

The two of them spent twenty minutes or so winding their way through the many small corridors of the room a few times, and twice more Peter sounded off that he felt something weird near at hand. Both times were SHIELD agents hiding. The boy didn’t catch all of the people that were there, but Natasha was impressed by the ones that he did – although she didn’t make a huge spectacle of it.

“You did great,” she told him when they finally walked out and ended up back in the hallway that led to the lounge. “Your stomach never actually hurt, right? Just felt weird…?”

“No, it didn’t hurt.”

“Because there wasn't any danger,” Steve said, walking on the other side of Peter. “No one here wants to hurt Peter.” Obviously. “I don’t get how you can feel danger like that, but it’s a helpful ability for a guy that might be a superhero, someday.”

Peter smiled, excitedly, at that.

Sure, he’d mentioned wanting to be an Avenger, but he was eight. Just a little kid, and he knew it. Steve Rogers was Captain America, though, and if he was saying that it might happen, that was a lot different, now, wasn't it?

“But… you can’t come to count on just that stomach ache thing,” Natasha told him as they walked into the lounge and she steered him over to the table. “Because you might not always feel it. You need to always be aware of what’s going on around you, too.”

“Okay.”

“She’s right,” Steve agreed. “Your eyes and ears are going to be your best asset when it comes to keeping yourself safe. But don’t ignore your gut. Right, Nat?”

“Absolutely.” She hefted him up into his chair, on top of the stack of books. “Your stomach can often tell you what your eyes don’t see.”

“It’s saying it’s _hungry_ ,” Peter told her and Steve.

Which made them both smile.

“We’d better feed him, then,” Steve said. “We’re having hotdogs, Peter. You’re good with that, right?”

The boy nodded, eagerly.

“Yes, please.”

Natasha pulled a chair over to sit closer to Peter and pulled her phone out while Steve headed for the kitchen area.

“Let’s call your dad and check in with him,” she told the boy. “That way he doesn’t think we lost you, or anything.”

Peter smiled at that, but sat up, a little more, and leaned toward her, looking at the display, cheerfully.

“Okay.”


	137. 137

“This was a good idea.”

“All my ideas are good ones. I thought you knew that.”

Tony shook his head.

“I think you’ve been around me too much,” he told Pepper. “You’re beginning to sound an awful lot like me.”

“Arrogant and annoying?”

“I’m not…” she arched a brow at him, waiting, and he shrugged. “We’ll call it confident and brilliant.”

“Uh huh. I-“

She was interrupted by the gentle chime from Tony’s phone. He smiled at Pepper and pulled it out of his pocket, and then his smile broadened when he saw who it was – and who was with her.

“Hey! There’s my boy.”

Peter grinned.

_“Hi.”_

“What are you two up to?”

_“We’re going to have hotdogs! And we walked through this maze thing and we were checking to see if my stomach hurt, or not, and then when we’re done eating lunch, we’re going to go play outside on the-“_

“Agent Romanoff? How much sugar have you given him?”

The assassin smirked, pulling Peter into her lap so she could see Stark, easier, and he and Peter could still see each other.

_“None, yet. He gets his poker winnings, tomorrow.”_

_“I did good,”_ Peter told him. _“But I’m not good at bluffing.”_

_“And his poker face needs work,”_ Natasha said – even though she’d already told Tony about the poker game the evening before. Peter hadn’t been there, at the time, so she wanted to let him know, too. _“But we’re going to work on his playground skills, today, and see how much fun he can have before he freezes solid.”_

The boy smiled at that, and then realized that he could see the area behind Tony – and that Stark wasn't at home.

_“Where are you?”_

“Pepper and I are walking in the park.”

Pepper moved a little closer so that Peter could see her, as well.

“Hi, Peter.”

_“Hi.”_

“Do you guys need anything?” Tony asked, smiling at his son, even while he was reaching for Pepper’s hand out of view of the people on the screen. “Money to go to the movies? A pizza delivered for dinner?”

Romanoff smirked at that.

_“Nick is making us dinner, tonight.”_

“He is?”

“It was a side bet that he made with Coulson during the game, last night. They cut the deck, and high card has to make us dinner.”

“Peter? You didn’t get in on the bet?”

_“I get to help Nick cook.”_

He looked pretty excited. Of course.

_“We’ll let you guys get back to your walk,”_ Romanoff told them _. “I just wanted to check in with you, in case you were missing Peter.”_

“I _am_ missing him,” the billionaire assured her – and the boy, who smiled. “Who’s bringing him home, tomorrow, and when?”

_“It’ll probably be me, but we’ll wait and verify that, later – and then I’ll call you and let you know.”_

“Thank you.”

There would be no guessing when it came to something like that, of course.

_“You’re welcome.”_ The assassin’s eyes were amused and he had a feeling that she was seeing something in his expression or demeanor that told her there had been a change in the dynamic between him and Pepper. _“Have a good walk.”_

_“Bye!”_ Peter said, waving.

“Bye, buddy.”

“Bye, Peter.”

The call ended, and he put his phone away.

“I wonder what Nick’s going to cook…”

“I hope they get video…” she said. “No one would probably believe it, otherwise.”

Stark squeezed her hand before letting it go, but only so he could put his arm around her, his hand now resting lightly on her waist.

“Am I making you dinner, again, tonight?” he asked. “Or have you made your conquest and plan on kicking me to the curb?”

Pepper smiled.

“I have things that need to be done at home,” she told him.

They’d gone to her place after breakfast so she could change, and had spent a little time fooling around on her sofa – and then in her bed – before deciding to go get some fresh air. She hadn’t even started the laundry list of things that needed to be done. Most of them small things, but all important in one way or the other.

“I can understand that.”

His ready acceptance of the idea that he didn’t – _necessarily_ – come first on her list of priorities was another sign of growth from him, as far as Pepper was concerned. True, they’d slept together, and that was definitely going to change their relationship, but it didn’t mean that she didn’t still have other things to take care of.

“I’ll make you dinner,” Pepper added, resting her hand on his. “If you don’t mind watching me fold towels and fluff the pillows…”

“I _love_ watching that kind of thing,” he assured her with a smile.

Uh huh. She wasn't fooled, but it was one of those little lies that was far more sweet than annoying.

“Good. What do you want for dinner?”

“Whatever you want to make. I’ll even _help_ you,” he added.

“Sounds good.” Maybe she’d find something complicated, just to see if they could make it. Of course, they would be in _her_ kitchen and not his, so she decided that they could experiment another day. “Nothing with chocolate chips.”

“Deal.”

><><><><>

“Aren't you cold?”

“I’m _freezing_ ,” Romanoff confirmed, never looking at Sam because she was watching Peter dangle from the monkey bars on the wooden play area that was in the back of the compound. “We’re almost done, though.”

Peter would play all day out on the toys, even if there wasn't another kid to play with. Natasha and the others had already figured out that he loved being upside down, or swinging, or doing anything that involved similar motions. He didn’t get motion sick no matter how many times one would turn him upside down – although they already knew that he was more than capable of catching a cold. And, of course, all of them had heard about the s’mores debacle at the cabin in the boonies, so none of them had any intention of letting him have too many marshmallows.

“Where’s Steve?”

When Sam had gone inside to warm up, Rogers and Natasha had both been watching Peter playing. Now he was back, sipping on a thermal container of coffee and watching as the little boy allowed himself to drop from the bar, and still managed to twist himself around to land on his feet instead of his head.

“Peter!” Romanoff said, reacting to the action before Sam could assure himself that he’d seen it happen. It had looked pretty nerve-wracking. “Don’t _do_ that.”

The boy looked over, pulling the hood of his coat off to hear her better.

“Do what?”

“Fall like that,” Wilson told him. “You could have hurt yourself.”

“I didn’t _fall_ ,” Peter said. “I let go.”

“Don’t do it, again,” Natasha replied, gesturing for him to come to them. “I thought you were going to land on your head.”

“I _wasn't_.” He walked over, though, and smiled up at her. “I landed on my _feet_.”

“ _This time_ ,” Sam said, shaking his head. “But what if you hadn’t? Boom! Tony’s mad at us, and you’re in the medical lab, holding an icepack on your head.”

“Or getting _stitches_ ,” Natasha agreed. She swept him up into her arms. “Be more careful, okay? Cold fingers don’t work as well.”

“Okay.” He hugged her, reassuring himself that she wasn't mad at him, or something. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just be careful.” She kissed his ear, which was cold, and then his cheek – which was even colder. “I think it’s time to go in and warm up.”

“Twenty more minutes…?”

Wilson smirked, well aware that the boy was working on the beginning of a new negotiation. The newly learned skill was one that he was still getting the hang of, after all.

“Steve went to find out if Nick is ready for his kitchen helper,” Romanoff said, ignoring the request, adroitly, as well as answering Sam’s earlier question. “You can’t help him make dinner if you’re bundled in a coat and shivering. Right?”

“Right.”

She set the boy down, and turned him toward the door, swatting his rear, playfully.

“Go hang your coat up and put your mittens by a heater to dry. Wash your hands and your face and then meet me in the lounge.”

He giggled.

“Okay.”

The two adults watched him run into the building, and Sam handed Natasha his coffee, which she accepted with a nod of thanks.

“He’s a lot of fun, isn’t he?” Wilson asked.

“Yes.” She took a sip of the coffee and they headed inside, too. “But he’s a lot of _work_ , too.”

“You could have just invited him out for a day, you know? He’d have been fine.”

Peter loved being at the compound and even a day – or a single night – would have been exciting.

“I thought Tony could use a break,” she explained, smiling. “He’s doing great with him, but he hasn’t had a chance to spend time with just other adults, for a while – and while he hasn’t complained about it, it’s still nice to have a chance to be a grown up, too.”

“Good point.”

The smirk turned into a smile.

“Besides, it’s fun to watch _Nick_ interact with the boy.”

Wilson snorted.

“True.”


	138. 138

“I thought you were going to help me cook dinner?”

Stark looked up from his tablet, smiling at Pepper, who looked amazing, even when she had nothing more interesting than jeans, a sweater, and an apron on over them.

“I _am_.” He held up the tablet. “But this is priceless.”

Of course, she had to come see what he was looking at.

“What is it?” she asked, even as she realized that it was the kitchen in the lounge at the compound, and that Nick Fury was in the large, airy, room – along with one little boy standing on a chair next to a small table with a basket of corn in front of them. “Is this a live feed?”

“Yes. JARVIS is linked in.” He was linked in almost everywhere, of course, and she knew it. “Peter’s helping Nick prepare dinner.”

“Unlike some people…” Pepper muttered, although she rested her chin on his shoulder so she could look at the display, too. “What is he doing?”

Tony turned his head long enough to press a kiss against her cheek.

“He’s shucking corn. They’re going to boil corn on the cob. There’s a roast in the oven – complete with a secret rub – and they are talking about peeling potatoes, although I assume Nick will not be letting my little man anywhere near a knife.”

“I don’t imagine so.”

“Then they’re going to make homemade ice cream.”

She frowned.

“Really? Is there an ice cream maker at the compound?”

“Not one that I know of, but Nick wouldn’t be asking Peter if he wanted to do it if he didn’t have the means to get it done.”

“What kind?” she asked. Then she smiled. “Wait… let me guess; chocolate chip?”

“That was Peter’s suggestion,” Stark confirmed. “Nick suggested that maybe they should make _Natasha’s_ favorite, since she was Peter’s Valentine.”

“So what did they decide on?”

“Peach.”

“Ugh.”

“You don’t like peach?”

“Not in ice cream.” She used her finger to turn his head toward her, again, and this time she kissed him. On the lips. It was an immediate and effective distraction. “Come help me make dinner.”

“Yes, dear.”

Which made her smile.

“That was nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Dear, it is.”

“What are you going to tell Peter?”

Tony got to his feet and put his arms around her.

“I’m not sure. He’s pretty perceptive, so if you don’t want him to know about us, tell me now, because I need to practice not showing any interest in you when you’re around.”

“I’m fine with him knowing.” She had a feeling that Peter wouldn’t object. “Should we tell him, together? Sit him down and explain it?”

“Depends on what we’re explaining,” Tony said. He nuzzled her ear. “Are you moving in with us?”

“No.”

“Staying the night, sometimes…?”

“Maybe.”

“He has an appointment with the psychologist, Monday. I’ll ask the doctor for some suggestions on how to bring it up, and then I’ll let you know what he says. If I should do it alone, I will. Or if he thinks Peter would benefit by having you there, as well, then that’s what we’ll do. Sound good?”

“Tony Stark? Asking for suggestions rather than running headlong into something without thinking it through…? Inconceivable.”

The billionaire smiled.

“It’s _Peter_ , Pep. I have to make sure I do it right, the first time. God knows his aunt did a shitty job.”

“True. Let me know.”

“Of course.”

She kissed him, and this time it was a little more tender, and a lot steamier.

“How hungry are you?”

“Starving.”

“Too bad,” Pepper murmured. “I was thinking we might hold off on dinner in favor of a different kind of appetizer.”

Her look was pointed and went straight through him.

“Did I say _starving_?” He asked, smiling, kissing her, again. “I meant I’m not hungry, at all.”

“Good answer…”

He slid his hands down her back.

“I’m a quick learner. You know that.”

Her throaty smile was the only reply.

The only vocal one, anyway.

><>><><><><

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

Nick Fury scowled, wiping his face with one sooty hand, and then looking at the boy who was sitting on the table in the main area of the lounge. _Peter’s_ face was sooty, too, but the boy’s eyes were cheerful as he turned to greet Natasha, Steve, and Sam. As they walked up to the table, a small group of fire fighters walked out of the kitchen, waving their hands.

“It’s all clear, Director.”

“No danger?”

“Nope.” The familiarity was tinged with humor, despite the blackened state of some of the surfaces in the kitchen. “A little smoke damage. We’ll get it cleaned up, later.”

“You tried to burn down the kitchen?” Steve asked, incredulously. He looked at Peter, reaching out to touch the sooty little cheek, leaving a smear. “You okay, buddy?”

Peter smiled.

“Yeah.”

“There were never any actual flames,” Fury said. “Just a little smoke.”

“A _lot_ of smoke,” Peter said, making the others smile.

“What happened?” Natasha asked.

“The roast caught on fire,” the boy replied.

“The rub on the roast,” Nick corrected. “There may have been a touch too much bourbon in the mix.”

“So… did you manage to save our dinner?” Sam asked.

“I was too busy making sure the really important things were taken care of,” came the reply. He looked down at Peter, who was still smiling when he looked up at him. “You don’t hurt?”

“No. I’m okay.”

“We’ll have you checked out, anyway,” Fury decided, turning to look at Steve. “Take him to get looked at, will you?”

“Of course.” Rogers reached down and picked the boy up, holding him, easily in one arm and pushing his curls back from his dirty face. “Maybe a bath is in order, too?”

“No.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Natasha disagreed. She tweaked Peter’s nose, making the boy giggle. “You get him checked out and cleaned up and Sam and I will go find a pizza or something for dinner.”

“The roast is a little charred, but we could salvage it.”

“ _You’re_ going to go get checked by the medics, too,” Romanoff told him. “And a shower wouldn’t kill you – or a change of clothes. You reek of smoke.”

He scowled, again, but as formidable as he was, she was a match and he wasn’t going to challenge her for such a minor reason.

“Fine…” he reached out and touched Peter’s cheek, again. “But I don’t want anchovies.”

><><><><><>

It was well into the evening when Tony called Romanoff to check in on his son.

By then, Peter was in his pajamas and was playing Legos with Natasha and Sam. The boy looked up from the car chase between Batman and Voldemort, excited, when Natasha’s phone rang, and she smiled when she answered it, gesturing for him to come over and sit on her lap for a better view.

“Tony. Good evening.”

Stark’s visage came onto the display of her cell. He was clearly in a good mood, and only looked more so when he saw Peter climb into Natasha lap and rest the back of his head against her front.

_“Hey. Hey, there’s my boy. I was just calling to check in on your guys. How’s it going?”_

“We’re playing Legos,” Peter told his father. “Sam built a obstacle course and I’m chasing Voldemort through it.”

_“Sounds like a good time,”_ Tony replied. _“You’re ready for bed?”_

“Yes. But I don’t have to go to _sleep_ , yet.” The boy grinned. “Sam is going to sleep in my room, tonight.”

_“He is?”_ Stark looked a little worried, as if he were concerned that there was a serious reason for it, but Natasha didn’t look worried from her position over Peter’s shoulder, and he was sure she would have called him, earlier, to tell him if there had been anything too serious that had happened to cause it. _“Is that so you’re not so lonely without me being next door?”_ he guessed.

“Yeah.”

_“Good plan.”_

“We had pizza for dinner.”

Tony frowned.

_“I thought you were having roast, and corn?”_

“We caught the kitchen on fire.”

_“What?”_

“Relax, Tony,” Natasha said, speaking up. “It wasn't actually in flames, or anything. The roast had drippings that caught in the oven and smoked the place up, a bit.”

_“Are you alright?”_ he asked the boy. He looked at Romanoff before Peter could answer. _“Is he alright?”_

“He’s fine,” she assured him. “We had him checked by the medics – just to make sure his lungs weren’t hurt by the smoke, and they cleared him, no problem.”

“I’m okay,” Peter said. “I don’t hurt when I breathe. Nick got checked out, too.”

_“Do I need to come get him?”_ Tony asked Natasha.

“Of course not. He’s been fed, and we’re playing Legos. He’s fine,” she repeated. “I’ll be bringing him home, myself, sometime after lunch. Where will you be?”

There was only the briefest hesitation.

_“I’ll be home.”_

“Where are you, _now_?” Peter asked realizing that he wasn't seeing their home in the background.

_“I’m at Pepper’s.”_

“Is she there?”

The billionaire smiled at his son.

_“Why would I be here, if she wasn't?”_

“I don’t know. You could be _cleaning_ , or something.”

Romanoff’s smile was knowing, and Tony rolled his eyes, well aware that the superspy knew why he was at Pepper’s.

“Yes, Tony…” she drawled. “Whatever _could_ you be doing there? Laying… new carpet?”

There was a decidedly feminine snort of amusement, and Pepper stuck her head in close to Tony’s so Peter – and Natasha – could see her.

_“Hi, honey.”_

“Hi, Pepper.” Peter’s smile was happy, and it made Pepper smile, too. Of course, he had every reason to be happy, really. He was being held by one person, and talking to two others – and Sam was waiting to finish playing Legos when the call ended. “Are you getting new carpet?”

_“No. Your dad came over for dinner. We’re going to watch a movie, but he wanted to call and check on you before you went to bed.”_

“Oh. What are you going to watch?”

_“A love story,”_ Tony told him. _“We haven’t decided which one – but it will be filled with kissing and googly eyes.”_

“Ewww.” The boy giggled. “I’m glad I’m here, then.”

_“If you were here, we wouldn’t be watching a love story.”_ He smiled. _“Sleep well, son. I’ll see you, tomorrow.”_

“Okay. Night, Pepper.”

_“Night, Peter.”_

The call ended, and Stark put his phone away, but activated his link to JARVIS on his phone, leaving it open so Pepper could hear, too.

“Is there a reason you didn’t bother to tell me about the fire?”

_“There wasn't a fire,”_ the AI assured him. _“Just a lot of smoke. The compound has many fire extinguishers.”_

“But still…”

_“You were otherwise preoccupied when the incident occurred,”_ JARVIS pointed out. _“I am certain that you wouldn’t have appreciated me interrupting, just then.”_

“Let it drop, Tony,” Pepper told him, relaxing against him. “I don’t even _want_ to know what he knows about what we’ve been up to – or how exactly he knows it.”

“He doesn’t _know_ ,” Tony said, putting his arm around her. “There aren’t any cameras in your bedroom – unfortunately.”

She found that more amusing than annoying, and he was glad for it, since it had popped out without him thinking what she’d think of that particular comment. Pepper chuckled, and reached for the remote.

“Just for that, we’re watching something extremely chick-flick-ish.”

“Awww.”

He didn’t care, though. He watched the adventures of Lego Batman for hours just to make Peter happy. He’d watch a chick-flick if that was what she wanted.

Personal growth certainly was annoyingly sweet, sometimes.


	139. 139

Stark was at the door before they reached it when Natasha returned Peter the next afternoon. He opened it as Peter was running up the steps of the porch, his backpack in his hand rather than draped over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Tony’s greeting was happy, and Peter’s expression was a match as the boy flung himself in his arms, dropping the backpack. “There’s my boy!”

Peter hugged him, hard.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, buddy,” he replied, truthfully.

“You checked in with him a million times,” Romanoff pointed out, walking up to the two at a much more sedate pace and picking up Peter’s backpack. “I don’t know how you could possibly have missed him that much.”

“Because you’re not a _dad_ , Natasha,” Tony told her, shifting Peter to one arm, but not putting him down, and reaching for the bag that she was carrying.

She handed him the backpack, as well.

“It’ll take some kind of crazy miracle to make me one,” she agreed.

“Cup of coffee?”

“That’d go down, nicely. Thanks.”

Tony set Peter down so he could shut the door, and handed the boy his backpack.

“Go put your things in your room, buddy. Dirty clothes into the hamper, and toys put away. Then meet us in the kitchen.”

“Okay.”

The billionaire smiled, though, and tousled Peter’s hair.

“I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me, too.”

The boy left, vanishing into his room with his bags. Tony turned and walked with Natasha into the kitchen.

“Did you have a good weekend?” The assassin asked, settling on a bar stool.

He smiled.

“I _did_.”

“Where is she?”

Tony didn’t have to ask who she meant.

“Home. I invited her to be here. I told her I’d make her dinner and she could hang out, but she said it should be me and Peter, tonight.”

“She’s right.”

“Yeah.” He already had coffee ready. JARVIS had told him when they’d reached the gate, after all. “What did you find out?”

“He definitely has a talent, but it isn’t a hundred percent. He knew there were people hiding behind the walls, but he didn’t catch in on all of them.”

“It isn’t much of an ability if it doesn’t work all the time.”

Natasha smiled.

“He’s still young. He’ll learn how to use them. Refine them. It’ll just take some learning on his part, and patience on yours.”

“I can wait,” Tony said, with a slight smile. “He’s a little guy, like you said. I’m not going to rush him into anything. He’s pretty fun as a little guy. I’m in no hurry to make him into anything else. _He_ certainly isn’t.”

“That’s very mature of you.”

“I’m a mature guy,” he told her.

She snorted, but before she reply to that – which would almost certainly have been sarcastic – Peter came running into the room, holding a small batman plushie that was only a little larger than his bear.

“You got me a batman!”

Tony nodded, handing Natasha her coffee and then picking the boy up and hugging him, again.

“I was going to get you an _Ironman_ , but you already have _me_. Right?”

Peter nodded, breathing excitedly as he hugged him.

“Yeah.”

“Stay for dinner?” Tony asked Romanoff. “It’s the least we can do for you keeping him company all weekend.”

She shook her head.

“I’m going to drink my coffee while Peter tells you all about what we did this weekend, and then I’m going home. But thank you.”

She was ready for a break from the adorable cuteness that was Peter Stark – and the double dose that came from watching Tony interacting with him.

“Can I have a cookie?” Peter asked his father.

“You didn’t offer our _guest_ any…” Tony reminded him.

Peter smiled, turning to Natasha.

“Want some cookies?”

“Yes. _Please_.”

Tony set him down and Peter hurried to get his stepstool so he could reach the shelf that held them. As he tried to decide what kind of cookies Natasha would want – which was really him deciding what kind of cookies _he_ wanted – Tony poured himself a cup of coffee and settled in the barstool closest to Peter’s. He’d checked in with them often enough that he had a good idea of everything that had happened that weekend – and he and Pepper had watched the recording JARVIS had of the kitchen scenario with Nick once he’d gotten off the phone with the boy and Natasha the evening before – but it would be fun to hear it in Peter’s own words.

><<><><><>

“Did you have a good night, last night?”

Tony nodded, smiling at Pepper, who was sitting in a chair on the other side of his desk.

“I did. We entertained Romanoff until she left, then we had dinner, and made the most incredible Hot Wheels track in the history of Hot Wheel tracks before bedtime.”

“The most incredible one, _ever_?” she asked, amused that he would be so enthusiastic about something so juvenile. Of course, it was Tony, she decided, and she knew that he wasn't above being childish, at times. “There are probably others out there who might disagree.”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “But I’m an engineer – and Peter understand physics as well as anyone, and better than most. We had those cars racing around the living room and the kitchen without any need for propulsion other than gravity and force.”

“Did JARVIS record it?”

“Of course.” The billionaire assured her. “When they finally get around to making the movie about my life, it’ll need to go in, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure…”

“Besides, Peter thought that you might want to see it.”

“Uh huh. Maybe later.” She had a lot of other things to do, that morning. “Did you speak to Doctor Wayne?”

“I _did_.” Pepper had suggested that Tony call the doctor that morning and discuss how/when/or _if_ they should tell Peter that he and Pepper were sleeping together. So they (or Tony) didn’t spring it on him at an inopportune time. “He thanked me for letting him know, and then assured me that even though patient/doctor confidentiality doesn’t extend to parents of his clients, he wouldn’t spread it around.”

“That’s nice of him.”

“Of course, I don’t mind people knowing,” Stark added. “At least, once Peter does.”

He shouldn’t be hearing about it at school, or something.

“What did he say about telling him?”

Tony shrugged.

“He said that Peter already knows about sex, and relationships between men and women, so it shouldn’t traumatize him to find out that we’re an item. He did mention that when Peter was telling him about the people in his life as they were getting to know each other, your name came up, immediately.”

“What does that mean?”

“That you were in his thoughts. And that he clearly loves you.” He smiled at the way her expression softened at that. “Which I already knew, of course.”

“Jesus, that little boy is too cute.”

“Right?” Tony smiled, reaching for her hand. “So, it leaves the question; do _you_ mind if Peter knows about us? We could try to keep it a secret, if you’d rather.”

She appreciated that. And decided that it was another sign that he wasn't the ass that he’d once been, because the old Tony – Pre-Peter Tony – wouldn’t have bothered to ask her input and would have done whatever he wanted.

“He’s a perceptive little guy,” she said. And she smiled when she remembered a conversation that she’d had with the little boy. “Besides, you shouldn’t have that kind of secret from him – and I don’t want to have that kind of secret from him.”

“Do we tell him, together?”

“No. You take him home after his psychologist appointment, tonight, and sit him down and discuss it with him. Then, despite it being a school night, if he isn’t freaked out about it, I will bring us all dinner, and we can talk about any questions or concerns that he has while we eat and then play with Legos, or something that isn’t too physical.”

“Alright.”

“Unless the psychologist vetoes the idea,” she added. “Either way, call me before I leave here, so I know if I’m bringing dinner over.”

“Will do.”


	140. 140

Mondays worked on different schedules than the other days did, now.

Rather than Maria or Phil dropping Peter off at the tower, Tony was waiting for them outside the school. One of the agents would deliver Peter to the billionaire’s car so that Tony could take Peter to the appointment with Doctor Wayne, and then would take him to daycare – provided Peter was up for it, and if they didn’t have something else planned. Pepper had helped Tony clear his Monday afternoon schedule, now, just in case something happened, and Peter needed Tony more than the shareholders, or the VPs did.

Peter had been excited when Tony had brought the idea up on Monday morning, and he was clearly still excited when he’d rushed out of the front door after class, with Maria walking beside him and holding his hand to keep him from running ahead.

Stark noted with approval that while there were a number of students milling around the front of the building as well, none of them were close to Peter. As if by prearranged agreement, they were giving the boy and the agent a wide berth. Tony didn’t know if SHIELD had briefed the students or not, but it didn’t matter, he supposed. His little boy was so much smaller compared to the others that he definitely didn’t want him to be jostled.

Even _accidentally_.

“Hi,” Peter said, happily, when Maria released his hand once he was in reach of the billionaire.

“Hey, buddy.” Tony decided that Peter wouldn’t mind being picked up and hugged – even in front of his classmates – and he swept the boy into his arms, backpack and all and hugged him. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah.” Peter hugged him for a moment and then leaned back. “We discussed the Hot Wheel track you and made, last night.”

“In art class?” Stark asked, making Peter smile.

“It was for physics. I mentioned it, and then one of the kids mentioned that she’d done stuff like that with her brothers when they were little, and it started a discussion on kinetic energy and variables and slopes.”

“Wow.”

“We missed out on a quiz, because of it,” Peter said.

“Which is probably one of the reasons the kids were so into the conversation,” Hill told Tony. She winked. “You got him?”

“I _do_. Thanks.”

Tony set the boy down as Maria told Peter that she’d see him in the morning, and she walked off without another word, vanishing into the crowd, but almost certainly not finished for the day. Stark had no doubt that there were more than one SHIELD agents assigned to shadow him and Peter as they drove to the boy’s appointment – probably even in the parking garage. Just to make sure nothing happened.

Tony didn’t mind. In fact, he appreciated it. As long as the agents didn’t get underfoot, he was fine with having an entire platoon of them. He took Peter’s backpack and opened the car door.

“Buckle up, buddy,” he said.

“Yeah.”

They continued to talk about Peter’s day as they drove to the appointment. Since they arrived at the psychologist’s office a little early, the subject switched over to _Tony’s_ day while they waited in the deserted waiting room. It wasn't a long conversation since Peter had spoken to Tony at lunch time and knew what he’d been doing – and he hadn’t really had anything important afterward, having cleared his schedule for Peter’s appointments on Mondays.

Dr. Wayne greeted Tony, cheerfully, and invited Peter into his office to chat. While he waited, Tony pulled out his phone and took a selfie with the office in the background and sent it to Pepper – for no other reason than because he was bored. She sent back a smiley face, but then a meeting emoji that explained to him why she wasn't going to call and chat, and Tony grumbled half-heartedly, and put his phone away and picked up one of the magazines from the end table.

><><><><>

“Anything we need to change up?” Tony asked half an hour later when he was invited into the office to join them at Dr. Wayne’s desk.

He smiled at Peter as he sat down, noting that the boy looked cheerful and relaxed.

Obviously, Peter liked Dr. Wayne and was comfortable with him, already. That was a good sign, he decided.

“Peter tells me that he only had one weird dream, last week,” Wayne reported, equally as relaxed with the boy – and Ironman. “And he woke up three times, but was able to go back to sleep all three times with minimal interruption in his sleep.”

“That’s what I have, too.”

JARVIS kept a log for them, after all.

“That’s good. A weekend spent with the Avengers out in their secret compound – and I heard all about Valentine’s day with Natasha.”

Tony smiled at that, reaching over and tousling Peter’s hair.

“So have I.”

Peter smiled at him; a look that was so sweet and happy Tony felt his eyes sting.

“He doesn’t have anything that he feels anxious about, either, and he tells me that school is going well.”

“So what’s our homework for this week?” Tony asked.

“Same as last week. Keep track of any dreams, watch out for anything out of the ordinary and have a fun time, together.”

“We can do that,” Stark said. “Right, Peter?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll see you, next Monday.”

“Thanks.” He got to his feet. “Let’s go home, son.”

><><>><>

As they drove home, Peter told Tony what he and Dr. Wayne had discussed.

Not because Tony asked, but Peter was excited by the appointments that he had with the man and was eager to share what they talked about – and what they _did_ , because apparently it wasn't all talking. Tony was curious, at any rate, because he wanted to know what was said and done at a psychologist appointment. He’d allowed Pepper to talk him into making his own appointment, after all, and was going to be seeing one, himself, later that week.

Peter told him how he and Dr. Wayne colored pictures in coloring books while they talked, and sometimes played with Legos.

Tony doubted he and _his_ therapist would be doing that.

When they got home, he parked in the garage, next to the bicycle that Steve had bought Peter for Christmas, and the boy led the way into the house, tossing his backpack on the table, since he had some homework to do, and would work on it before dinner so they would have time to play before bed.

“Hey,” Tony said, catching him before he could get involved in anything too distracting. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah?”

Tony picked the boy up and sat him on the island so he was more on level with him.

“What would you think if I told you that Pepper was going to be my girlfriend?”

Peter’s eyes widened.

“Is she?”

“We were thinking about it, yes. As long as you’re good with it.”

“Wow. How come?”

“What?”

“Why is she going to be your girlfriend?”

“Because I like her and she likes me. We discussed it, and we want to try to make a go at it.”

The boy’s expression grew awed.

“Did you _do it_?”

Now Tony’s expression grew pained. That hadn’t really been a question he’d expected – although, in retrospect, he probably _should_ have, he realized. _And_ he should have asked Dr. Wayne how he could answer it – or if he should. He was on his own, and he wasn't a big fan of lying – especially to Peter.

“Yes. But don’t you even think about saying that to Pepper.”

“She doesn’t know?”

Tony smiled, amused, despite the discussion.

“Of course she knows, buddy. But it isn’t polite to bring it up.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

Ugh.

“Well… sex is a personal thing. It’s intimate. Some people – a _lot_ of people, maybe – don’t like talking about it. See?”

“No.”

He genuinely looked confused, and Tony brushed his bangs back from his forehead, affectionately. Peter was so mature, sometimes, and so child-like the rest. Which made sense, he reminded himself.

“Just trust me on this, and don’t mention doing it with her. Or anyone else.”

“Not even you?”

“You can always talk to me about it,” Tony reminded him. “We’re father and son. You can talk to me about anything. Understand?”

“What was it like?”

“Let’s bring this conversation back to the topic sentence,” Stark said, really wanting to avoid that discussion, entirely. “ _You_ like Pepper, right?”

“Yes.”

The reply was immediate.

“Love her?”

Peter nodded.

“I think so, yes. Do you?”

Tony hesitated, looking into those intelligent brown eyes that he loved so much, and then he nodded.

“Yeah, buddy, I do love her.”

“Is she going to live with us?” Peter asked, suddenly excited. “May’s boyfriends lived with us. Not all at once, but when one got mad and left, another would come. Is Pepper coming to live here?”

“That’s a conversation that we’ll need to have,” Tony told his son. He smiled. “And by _we_ , I mean me and Pepper. You can’t ask her.”

“Why not?”

“Because we want her to move in with us because she wants to move in with us, right?”

“Yes.”

“If you ask her, then she might say yes only because she loves you and doesn’t want to hurt your feelings by saying no. But then, if she didn’t really want to move in, she might not be happy living here, with us. And we don’t want her unhappy, do we?”

Peter shook his head.

“No.” He smiled. “I _do_ want her to move in with us.”

“I can tell.” Tony leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I do, too. But I can’t really ask her, either – for the same reason _you_ can’t.”

Peter frowned.

“Then how will she know we want her to live here?”

“We’ll have to tell her without words.”

“What?”

The billionaire chuckled.

“It’s tricky, I know. Just be yourself, alright? If she wants to live with us, it’ll happen.”

“Wow.” Peter hugged himself, making Tony smile. And then – again – his expression grew excited. “Are you going to _marry_ her?”

There was just a moment of panic at that particular thought, and then Tony realized that there wasn't even _close_ to as much panic as there was enthusiasm for the idea. He shrugged, though.

“That’s another one of those things that will have to be figured out – without asking her, right now.”

“But-“

“I’ll ask her, eventually,” Tony interrupted. “But we only just started with the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing. Let’s not overwhelm her – or scare her away. Alright?”

“Okay. Girlfriend/boyfriend stuff is complicated. Isn't it?"

Tony hugged him, picking him up and tucking his head under his chin.

“That, it is. I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.” He felt Peter hugging him, too. “I love you.”

“And I’ll still love you, even if Pepper is in our lives.”

“I know.”

She already was, right? He didn’t feel shorted by her hanging out with Tony, too.

“She’s coming for dinner, if you’re alright with that?”

Peter nodded, and pulled back enough that he could look up at Tony.

“Tonight?”

“Yes. She’ll bring dinner with her, she said.”

“Okay.”

“Do your homework, son,” Tony told him, setting him on his feet, now. “We’ll figure out what she might want to do, after we eat.”

“We could show her the hot wheels track.”

“Definitely.”


	141. 141

Pepper was surprised – maybe not, as she thought about it – to see Peter and Tony both coming out of the front door when she pulled up to the front of the house. Tony was simply wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt against the chill of the evening, but Peter had been bundled into his coat and Tony was pulling the hood up even as they came to a stop by the driver’s side of her car.

“Hey, guys,” she said, smiling when Tony opened her door for her, and Peter moved into the space beside her before she could even unbuckle the seatbelt. “Hi, Peter,” she added, unable to help that her smile grew at just how happy he looked.

It couldn’t all be because she’d brought dinner, right?

“Hi, Pepper,” he replied, putting his hand on her leg, leaning close. “I’m glad you’re _here_.”

“So am I, honey,” she replied. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

“I brought chef salads.”

“Oh.” He had clearly hoped that she was bringing burgers, or anything less _green_ , but then he smiled. “Good.”

Pepper looked up at Tony, who was grinning, obviously amused at the exchange. He simply shrugged, though, and she turned her attention back to Peter, and reached for the bags that were sitting in the passenger seat.

“Will you take these inside the house for me?”

“Yeah.”

He took them all and backed up to let her get out of the car, and then ran up the porch and into the house.

“He’s certainly in a good mood,” she commented, as Tony offered her his hand to help her out of the car. Unnecessary, of course, but she had to admit that she thought it was sweet. “Is that a good sign?”

“He’s excited,” Stark confirmed. With Peter listening in as he’d called Pepper, earlier, to let her know they’d love to have her come to dinner, he hadn’t really been able to give her a report on how the conversation had gone. “We talked about you and I being an item.”

“How did it go?”

“He’s excited, of course.”

Awww.

“That’s nice.”

“He asked me about you moving in – because that’s what May’s boyfriends did.”

“Oh, no.” she smiled. “What did you tell him?”

“That he isn’t allowed to ask you to move in, because we don’t want you to feel obligated to live with us, if you don’t want to.” He kissed her, lightly, amazed that he was now able to without her scowling, or threatening him bodily harm. “I explained we have to show you we want you here without actually saying anything.”

“That should be interesting…”

“Yeah, I’m not sure he understands the concept.”

“He’ll figure it out.”

“And don’t even get me started on when he asked if you and I did it…”

Her hand went to her mouth, to hide her shock – and the smile that the thought of Tony facing that particular conversation with his eight-year-old brought to her face.

“He _didn’t_.”

“He _did_.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him yes.”

“No.”

“I wasn't going to lie to him.”

“He’s _eight_.”

“He asked me, directly, Pep. It was just easier to say yes than try to come up with a lie. Not to mention, he’s come to know me pretty well and probably would have caught on that I wasn't telling the truth.”

“Oh, Tony… he’s too little to understand-“

“He doesn’t understand it, at all, I’m guessing,” Stark assured her. “Don’t worry. I told him that he’s not allowed to ask you anything about it – or bring it up in conversation. He won’t.”

“And if he does?”

“Then you can try lying to him. Good luck with that.”

She shook her head, but shrugged, knowing that he wouldn’t be bragging to his eight-year-old son about a conquest, or something, so there wasn't anything malicious involved. And Peter _was_ hard to resist, she knew. They’d had conversations about her and Tony, too, after all, and she’d found herself being honest and unable to come up with any prevarication in the face of his pointed questions.

“Is there anything else I should be prepared for?”

“He asked if we were getting married.”

“Jesus. What did you say?”

He smiled.

“That it was another one of those things we can’t ask you, directly.” The billionaire offered her his arm. “Tonight’s going to be fun. He’s so excited, and has been trying to figure out how to show you he’s happy you’re here and not mention anything about moving in, or marriage.”

“Or _it_ ,” she added.

“Yup. Not to mention, he is going to have to pretend to be happy eating salad for dinner, when I know he was hoping for a pizza.”

“You two need to eat healthier.”

“We do better than I used to.”

“True.”

<><><><><>

They ate at the dining room table.

Pepper had stopped at a local place that she liked and had brought all the makings for chef salads, like she’d told them, along with bread sticks and a small chocolate cake with rich frosting. While she dished up their salads into bowls and put all the extras on top, she asked Peter about his appointment with Dr. Wayne, and the boy told her, cheerfully, that they’d talked about his sleep patterns, and that he’d told him all about Valentine’s day weekend at the compound and what he and the avengers had done.

“No dressing for Peter, Pep,” Tony said when she brought out several different packets. “He doesn’t like it.”

She looked surprised.

“You _don’t_?”

Dressing was a convenient way for salad to not be bland, She’d assumed that Peter was a fan – considering how little he enjoyed salads in the first place.

“No. It tastes funny,” the boy explained reaching for the boiled egg on his salad and shoving it into his mouth. “And then it makes everything else taste funny, too.”

“That makes sense.” She pointedly handed the boy his fork, and he took it, but then reached for a bread roll and gnawed on that, instead.

Tony had been watching, and his smile was amused. She’d never seen them eating salad, but in deference to her wanting them to eat healthier, he and Peter had tried the chef salad thing, before. He knew how this was going to turn out, if _she_ allowed it, like Tony had.

“Did Tony tell you that he’s going to see a psychologist, Wednesday?” Pepper asked Peter, knowing the man would have told his son about something like that rather than hide it.

It was another way to remind the boy that therapists weren’t for crazy people.

Peter nodded, stabbing some chicken with his fork, but being careful not to get any lettuce on it.

“Yeah. He said that it’s in the morning, so he’ll be back before I come from school.”

“If something happens and I’m running behind, Maria will deliver you to Pepper’s office, instead,” Tony said, reminding Pepper that she’d offered – just in case.

“Okay.” He fished a handful of ham from the salad – still avoiding the lettuce. “What do grown up psychologist talk about?”

“Same kind of things that kid ones do,” Stark told him.

_“Legos?”_

Pepper snorted, amused, and both of them looked over at her. She raised her hand.

“Sorry. Ignore me.”

Tony smiled – and Peter did, too, although he didn’t really understand why she was laughing. He picked up another slice of ham.

“We talk about what keeps us up at night,” Stark replied, answering Peter’s question as the boy shoved the meat into his mouth and followed it with some cheese – still not touching the lettuce. “And if we have weird dreams, the doctor tries to help us understand why.”

“Oh.” Peter didn’t think that it was at all unusual that Tony had weird dreams. He fished another piece of turkey from his salad. “Do you want me to go with you?”

He was touched by the offer, and it showed, but he shook his head.

“You have school.”

“I could miss it.” He picked some cheese chunks and another hard boiled egg from the bowl in front of him. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”

“Are you planning on eating your lettuce?” Pepper asked, finally catching on to what he was doing.

The boy looked down at his bowl.

‘All the good stuff is gone.”

“Lettuce is good for you,” Pepper pointed out.

“It makes you poop,” was Peter’s reply. “That’s all.”

Tony rolled his eyes and buried his face in his palm, while Pepper frowned, but was unable to hide her amusement.

“Who told you that?”

Peter looked at his father, who gave her an innocent look, bringing his hand down.

“Technically, it’s true,” he said. “We looked it up. It’s _roughage_ , but there isn’t a lot of nutrients.”

“And it’s gross,” the boy added, helpfully. “It only tastes good on cheeseburgers. And tacos. And it’s okay on _sandwiches_. Sometimes.”

She rolled her eyes, giving Tony one of those looks that he hadn’t seen from her in a long time.

“Tony…”

“He’s a little guy, Pep. You probably didn’t like salad when you were eight, either.”

He didn’t mind them, now, but he still wasn't a huge fan.

“I suppose.”

“It’s okay,” Peter said, quickly, remembering that they were supposed to be making Pepper happy. “I’ll eat it.”

He stabbed a forkful of the lettuce and put it in his mouth, trying to look cheerful and enthusiastic about it. Pepper wasn't fooled for a moment, but she was touched to the core at the gesture, and her expression softened as she reached out and touched his cheek.

“You don’t have to eat it, honey,” she told him. “Tony? Make him a sandwich and a can of soup.”

“Yes, dear.” Tony winked at Peter as he got up. “Turkey?”

Peter hesitated, looking at Pepper, uncertainly.

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. It’s still healthy.”

But it was an indication to both adults that Peter wasn't going to have any trouble adapting to having Pepper be a part of their little circle that had only been two, but was now expanded to three.

“Even healthier,” Stark added, reaching for Peter’s bowl of lettuce. “Because he’ll actually eat it.”

She smiled.

“True.”


	142. 142

When Tony returned to the table, he was carrying a plate with a sandwich – turkey, cheese, mayo, tomatoes and _lettuce_ – and set it in front of his son.

“The soup is warming up.”

“Thank you.”

Peter took a bite of the sandwich, and Stark resumed his spot next to him.

“Are you going to stay for a while, this evening?” he asked Pepper.

“Not for too long. I need to get up early, tomorrow.” She smiled. “We can watch a movie, or play a game before I have to leave. Besides, it’s a school night, right?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t have any homework, but that was good – or he’d have to work on it, instead of spending time with her and Tony before bed. He wanted to tell her that she could stay the night – they had an extra bedroom, after all – but he waited for Tony to tell her, figuring that if it was something they should offer, he’d be the one that should do it. Peter was a little disappointed when he didn’t say anything about it.

Instead, he brought up the psychologist appointment.

“I like Dr. Wayne,” Tony told Pepper. “He’s pretty good with Peter.”

She looked surprised at the admission, and she turned to Peter, who had shoved a big bite of sandwich into his mouth and was chewing carefully, before he could be reminded that he wasn't supposed to do that, any more.

“Do you like him, too?”

Peter nodded.

“Mm-hmm.”

It was all he could say around the mouthful of food.

“Good.”

She looked a little smug, Tony decided, as he got up to get Peter’s soup, but that was only fair. He didn’t like a lot of people, after all – and admitted to liking even fewer, when he could get away with it.

He smiled, but settled for resting his hand on Peter’s head.

“Maybe we’ll see if he can hypnotize Peter and make him stop taking such big bites.”

“He said he doesn’t do that,” Peter replied before Pepper could, his mouth now empty.

“He’s teasing you,” Pepper assured the boy. “But please don’t take such big bites. There’s plenty to eat, right? It isn’t going anywhere if you eat, slower.”

“I’ll try not to,” the boy promised, proving it by taking a much more reasonable bite the next moment.

“Thank you.”

Tony rolled his eyes over Peter’s head where the boy couldn’t see it. Of course, _he’d_ told Peter a million times now (and maybe even more than that – even though he knew the numbers didn’t exactly add up) not to take such big bites, and he knew Romanoff and Steve had also reminded him, more than once. Pepper simply says please and doesn’t make him eat salad and suddenly he starts listening? 

She caught the gesture and smiled, but her attention was on Peter, and as Tony went to dish up the soup, she started asking him questions about Dr. Wayne.

Peter answered them, eating his soup when Tony brought it, and finishing his sandwich.

“Do you want a piece of cake?” Pepper asked when they were done eating.

“I want _four_ pieces,” the boy said, looking hopeful and cheerful.

She frowned.

“Four?”

Tony rolled his eyes, again, and smirked.

“Ignore him,” he said. “Natasha and Phil taught him how to negotiate over the weekend, and now everything starts with an exaggerated number so he can talk you up from one to whatever he thinks is what he really wants.”

Pepper smiled, but Peter nodded, his own smile happy.

“Four seems a little high,” she replied.

“You’re supposed to say _two_ ,” Peter told her, helpfully.

“Oh. Two seems a little much, as well. Maybe one piece that is regular sized, but another one that is a fourth of the size of the big one.”

The boy frowned, confused.

“How does that work?”

“She’s adding fractions into the equation, son,” Tony told him. “It works for times when you’re negotiating, but something is too precious to give away more than you really want to, so you have to switch up the dynamic a bit.”

“Oh.” Pepper was amused – and just a little awed – at how easily Peter was able to accept that explanation. “Three and a half pieces.”

“One and a quarter,” came the immediate counter.

“Three.”

“One and a third – and the third is _tiny_.”

The frown returned, but he was obviously enjoying himself.

“Two.”

“One and a half.”

“Done.”

“You caved too early, son,” Stark told him, going into the kitchen for saucers and a knife to cut the cake with. “She might have gone as high as two.”

“One and a half is still pretty good.”

Pepper gave Tony a look as he returned from the kitchen that plainly told him to make sure the pieces weren’t big. The last thing they wanted was a repeat of the marshmallow incident at the cabin. He smiled, and cut her a slice, and himself a slice – both were quite small – and then made a show of cutting one and a half pieces for Peter, putting them on the plate and setting it in front of him.

“When you’re done eating, I want you to go brush your teeth and get ready for bed.”

“Okay.”

><><><><>

By the time Peter was finished in his room and returned to the living room, the dishes had been done and most of the lights in the house were off. Pepper and Tony were on the sofa, settled close, and Tony had an arm around her. They were watching TV, but not any particular show, and Peter knew that they were simply waiting for him.

He walked around to the front of the sofa, looking at them, hopefully. Yes, there was plenty of room on the sofa for him, on the other side of Tony, or even the other side of Pepper, but that wasn't where Peter wanted to be. The only problem was that he knew that as boyfriend and girlfriend, Tony and Pepper probably wanted to sit by each other.

One of May’s boyfriends had pulled Peter up onto the couch between him and May one time, and his aunt had gotten angry at him for doing it. Peter didn’t want Pepper and Tony to be mad at each other because of him. But he longed to be between them. So much so that it almost made him ache, inside.

Tony must have understood his uncertainty, because he smiled and scooped his son up into his arms and then settled Peter between himself and Pepper, who moved only as much as was needed to make sure Peter was comfortable.

“You good?” Tony asked.

He hadn’t missed the uncertainty on the boy’s expression, and there was no hiding the hopefulness in those big, brown eyes. Or the happiness when Peter realized what he was doing.

Peter breathed a short gasp of happiness as his breath caught in his throat from pure joy. Especially when Pepper put an arm around him and then pressed a kiss against the top of his head.

“Yes.” He snuggled down between them, soaking up the love and warmth in equal measures. “What are we going to watch?”

“Pep?”

She smiled, taking the remote.

“How about a comedy?”

“Sounds good. Peter?”

He didn’t care. He was just happy where he was and wanted to savor it for a while.

“Okay.”

She found a kid-friendly one and hit play, then set the remote down and leaned into the cushions, as JARVIS lowered the lights without being asked. Peter leaned back into the cushion of the sofa and then tilted, just a little, toward Pepper – although his hand sought out Tony’s side for the comfort of the touch.

Then they settled in to watch the movie.

><><><><>

It didn’t surprise either adult that Peter was asleep by the time the movie was over.

Tony scooped the boy carefully up into his arms as he stood.

“I’ll be right back,” he told Pepper.

She nodded and turned the TV off, while Tony carried his sleeping son into his bedroom and put him to bed. Peter roused, somewhat, as he normally did when he was being moved around.

“It’s morning?”

“Shhh… no…” Tony crooned, gently. “It’s night. Go back to sleep.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“I know.” Tony stayed with Peter until he settled back to sleep, his breathing steadying, once more, and his little body limp. Then he covered him, kissed his forehead, carefully, and got to his feet. “He’s all yours, JARVIS.”

_“Yes, sir.”_

With the boy under the vigilant guard of the AI, Tony closed the door, quietly, behind him and went into the living room to join Pepper.

Pepper smiled up at him as he sat down beside her, now close enough that he was feeling the residual warmth left by Peter.

“He went without an argument?” she asked, leaning in for a kiss.

“Of course not,” Tony told her, brushing his lips against hers. “He assured me that he wasn’t sleepy. And then he went to sleep.”

A soft chuckle, and she pressed her hand against his chest, kissing him, again, but then pulling back.

“I should get home. It’s late.”

“You could stay the night.”

“Someday,” she assured him. “Not tonight, though.”

The billionaire didn’t argue. He wanted to, of course, but trysts were better when both parties were comfortable, and she wasn't there, just yet. Maybe because she was worried about Peter waking up and being traumatized if he saw them, or caught them, or – even worse, Tony decided – wanted to join him in his bed at an inopportune moment and found them involved in adult activities.

He’d have to address that. A mag lock on his door, just in case, and a conversation with JARVIS. Maybe even sound-proofing his bedroom.

“We’ll do a raincheck,” Tony said. He kissed her. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

It was chilly, and there was a bit of a brisk wind. Stark shivered, and put his arm around Pepper as they walked to the car.

“I had a nice evening,” she told him.

“So did I.” He opened her door for her, and shivered, again. “Why don’t you start parking in the garage when you come over?”

There was plenty of room, after all – and it was heated.

“Is there a spot for me?”

“We’ll move Peter’s bicycle.”

Pepper chuckled, and kissed him.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Drive safe.”

He waited until she drove away, and then headed back inside, shedding his coat and shoes at the door. He stopped and peeked in Peter’s room, but the boy was where he’d left him, and sleeping, soundly, from what he could tell. Tony resisted the urge to watch him sleep, and left, closing the door, again. Then he went to bed, too.


	143. 143

“What are you doing, tonight?”

“Spin class. Why?”

“Can you miss it?”

Pepper shrugged.

“It depends on why…”

Stark smiled.

“Eric called me. The adoption went through and he has invited us to celebrate at the Palace, tonight.”

“That’s wonderful.”

Tony agreed.

“Interested?”

“Of course.”

“Peter and I will come pick you up at 7:00.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“It’s casual,” he reminded her.

“Is Rhodes coming?”

“He always makes it a point to come,” the billionaire said. The monthly pizza thing was a favorite, really – and a good way to allow Peter a chance to see Eric and Nancy, and all the kids to spend time with Peter. Even the newest foster who had recently arrived. “This evening is going to be a little different, though.”

“Oh? How?”

“Eric is renting the place for a couple of hours, and inviting his family to go. And in addition, when I mentioned it to Steve, he mentioned it to Natasha, who mentioned it to Sam and Clint, and there will be many more Avengers there than simply me and Rhodey.”

“Wow.”

Tony smiled.

“Yes. It’s going to be special – and it _should_ be.”

“No one’s even going to notice me,” she complained, good-naturedly. “Not with so many superheroes around.”

“You’ll be the prettiest person there.”

“Smooth talker.”

“Well… right behind _Rogers_ , I suppose.”

Pepper snorted, amused.

“Do we bring presents?”

“No.”

“I’ll see you at seven.”

“Yup.” He looked at his watch. “I’m going to go collect my son from daycare and see if he has any homework.”

With that, the billionaire left her office, and Pepper returned to the business model she’d been looking over before he’d interrupted her. She was in a cheerful mood, though.

And not just because she’d heard the pizza at the Palace was good.

><><><><>

As parties at pizza places went, it was about as good as it could get.

The kids – Peter, Ned and the foster boys from Eric’s place – all had a fun time. Since the party was private, they found that they had unlimited access to all of the video games, and the prize machines, as well as the excitement of paying those video games against actual Avengers. They weren’t in their uniforms, or their suits, but they were easy to recognize even without, and all of them were willing to allow those who had gathered to celebrate Ned’s adoption to take selfies, wesies, and action pictures of them.

There were group pictures, too. Every combination of picture, with every kid, involved. The foster kids were used to Tony and Rhodes, by then, but having the others? It was a dream come true to most of them, and serious bragging rights when they got to school the next day and started telling the story.

It was a win for the Palace, too, since they would get the publicity of having their place associated with the Avengers – and all of the staff had been included in photo ops as well, as a thank you for the way they were treated. In return, the manager of the restaurant allowed them an extra hour of time to extend the party, and made all the video games free of charge – although the prize machines still cost money.

Peter spent a lot of time with Ned. First at the table while they were eating (pizza, and then cake and ice cream) and then while they went to play video games. With SHIELD agents guarding the entrances (and enjoying the party, too) as Avengers scattered throughout the room, there was no reason to keep them on any kind of leash. (Figuratively, not literally – although Tony was tempted, sometimes.)

When they finally called an end to the fun – it was a school night, after all – Peter and Ned walked up to where Eric was talking to Tony, who was describing the cabin.

“About ready to leave?” the billionaire asked his son.

Peter nodded.

“Can Ned stay the night, Friday?”

“What?”

Ned looked excited, but allowed Peter to speak for them.

“Can Ned stay the night? On Friday?”

Tony looked at Eric.

“He’s your son…” Tony reminded him – which made Ned and Eric both smile.

“You don’t have any plans this weekend?”

“Nope. We’re trying to do regular, mundane, things as well as the things that come with me being who I am. We’ll be home, and it’d be fun for Peter to have the company.”

“I don’t see why not, then,” Eric conceded, and he smiled again when Ned and Peter jumped around, happily. “Provided nothing comes up.”

“Thanks.”

Tony smiled, too.

“Get your coat, buddy, and tell everyone goodbye. We need to get Pepper home, or she’ll be grumpy in the morning.”

><><><><><

The rest of the week was smooth.

Peter and Tony stayed home in the evenings, relaxing and being a regular family, as much as they could. Two nights of the three remaining Pepper came over and had dinner with them, and both nights she stayed and spent time with them after they ate. They didn’t do anything super exciting; Peter still had homework to get done, and while he did that after dinner, Tony and Pepper would clean up the kitchen.

On Thursday night they watched another movie with Peter tucked between them. This time he didn’t fall asleep, and it was Pepper who volunteered to put the boy to bed when the movie was over – despite his protests that he wasn't tired. They negotiated a bedtime story – or two – and she was the one who read it to him, with Tony sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the two as she read and the boy tucked his head against her side, looking at the pictures.

Then both adults had told him good-night, and had closed the door as JARVIS turned down the lights.

“Is she going to stay the night?” Peter had asked the AI, softly, in deference to the fact that he was supposed to be going to sleep.

_“No.”_ JARVIS was modulating his response to make sure it couldn’t be overheard, either. _“There is concern that you might not be ready for them to change their dynamic so abruptly, so they’ll ease into that sort of thing.”_

“Oh.”

_“Adults who are parents have to consider the children they have at home when they have their girlfriend or boyfriend stay the night,”_ the AI told the boy.

“Why?”

_“To make sure there aren’t any underlying issues.”_

“I don’t think May did that with her boyfriends…”

_“I am certain that she did not. Tony, however, will – and Pepper will encourage him to continue to do so.”_

“Oh.” The boy hesitated, and then voiced something that he’d touched on the very edge of a few times in their night-time conversations, but never came right out and asked. “Do you think Tony and Pepper could ever get married?”

_“It’s possible.”_

“Ned told me that if Tony gets married, then I’ll have a mom, again.”

_“He’s correct. You shouldn’t bring it up with Tony – or with Pepper – however.”_

“Why not?”

_“Because it’s something that they need to ease into. Otherwise one or the other may get cold feet and terminate their relationship, prematurely.”_

“What do cold feet have to do with anything?”

If an AI could roll its eyes, JARVIS was doing just that.

_“It’s not a literal term. Cold feet means they will hesitate to continue their relationship because of uncertainty or other negative emotions.”_

“Oh. What do I need to do, then?”

_“Keep being yourself,”_ JARVIS said. “ _You can’t make them do this, and if you begin acting odd, they’ll worry about you and that will be a distraction from the endgame. So continue simply being Peter Stark. What will happen will happen.”_

“And it’ll work?”

_“It has been, thus far.”_

“You _meant_ for it to happen?” Peter asked, surprised. “Tony and Pepper?”

_“I nudged them in the right direction,”_ the AI admitted _. “Tony Stark was a lonely man, and that made him reckless, and unconventional. And something of an ass. Now he isn’t.”_

“He’s nice,” Peter said, loyally.

_“Yes, he is.”_ JARVIS’ tone was smug, which was impressive considering he wasn't human and wasn't supposed to be capable of that kind of emotion. _“Because he has someone to come home to. And someone to take care of – aside from himself. It makes him a better man – whether he wanted to be, or not. Go to sleep, Peter.”_

“I’m not _tired_.”

He was, though, but he wanted to continue the discussion with JARVIS. It was interesting, and it made him hope for more, when he knew he really didn’t have any reason to want anything beyond what he already had. Tony as a dad was so much more than Peter ever could have hoped for.

_“I’ll tell you a story…”_

“ _Five_ stories.”

_“One, and then you’re going to go to sleep or I’ll erase all your math assignments and you’ll have to do them, again, instead of playing Legos with Ned.”_

Peter frowned at the threat – even though he wasn't sure that JARVIS meant it.

“You’re not very good at bargaining…” he complained.

_“I’m an excellent bargainer,”_ JARVIS assured him. _“Close your eyes and I’ll tell you a story about your dad when he was younger.”_

“You will?”

_“Yes.”_

Peter did as he was told, and the AI started telling him a story about Tony’s first attempt at learning how to use his Ironman suit. The first one he’d manufactured. It was a funny story and not at all scary, but Peter fell asleep in the middle of it, despite the fact that it was interesting. The AI noted the boy’s regular breathing and lack of response to a soft question, and turned his attention to other matters.

There was a new suit that was being manufactured, and it was nearing completion. When Pepper Potts went home, if Stark wasn't tired, he’d want to check on the status – and JARVIS wanted to make sure he knew everything.

It saved time.


	144. 144

“Well? How is it?”

Ned smiled at his friend – and then at Tony, who was sitting at his desk watching the two boys. Eric had just dropped Ned and his overnight bag off at Stark’s office, reminded Ned to behave, hugged Peter and told Tony that if Ned misbehaved to call. It wasn't really a concern, of course. Ned was genuinely a nice kid, and he got along well with Tony – and, of course, with Peter.

“It’s crazy. I have my own room, now. Eric rearranged the older boys and I got the little room upstairs to myself.”

Peter looked suitably impressed.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you called him _dad_ yet?”

Ned shook his head.

“No. I don’t know when I’m supposed to start doing that… When did you call Tony dad?”

Tony answered before Peter could.

“New Year’s Eve.”

“Was it weird?” the boy asked both father and son.

“He was half-asleep,” Tony admitted with a smile. “But it was _exactly_ what I was waiting for him to say.”

“You were?”

“Yup.” He was amused and somewhat touched to find himself having this particular conversation with Ned, but he wanted to make things as easy for him as he could. “There’s no set time for you to say it by, buddy,” he assured the boy. “When you’re ready to call him dad, then you should. He’s going to love you no matter what you call him. You know that.”

Ned looked happy.

“Yeah.”

“I have a few things that I need to take care of, here,” the billionaire told the two. “Then we’ll go. Do you guys want to hang out here? Or go to daycare?”

“Daycare,” Ned said, looking at Peter, hopefully. “You can introduce me to all your friends.”

Peter nodded. None of the kids that he spent his afternoon hours with were really good friends, or anything – not like Ned was – but they were fun. They weren’t nearly as intelligent as Peter was – or as Ned was, even – but there was always something going on, or some crazy story one of them would tell him about what their older brothers did.

“Yeah.”

“Cookies, first?” Tony offered.

Ned nodded.

“Please.”

Peter didn’t need to do more than nod. He’d never pass up on a snack, after all.

><>>><><>

They had chocolate milk and cookies and then Tony walked them down to daycare. He told the boys that he’d be by to pick them up as soon as he was finished, reminded Ned that he was to stay in the daycare area, and then went back to his office.

Which was where Pepper found him.

“Is Ned here?” she asked, walking in and settling herself in one of the chairs across from his desk.

She didn’t kiss him, as much as Tony would have liked for her to do so. They were at work, and while _he_ didn’t have a problem with the idea, Pepper didn’t want their new relationship to come under scrutiny at the tower. It was Tony’s company, and Pepper was the CEO, so what other people thought didn’t really matter, of course, but she had pointed out that she didn’t want things to be uncomfortable with her subordinates.

He respected her wishes and simply greeted her with a smile and a nod to her question.

“Yes. He and Peter are down in daycare.”

“What are you boys doing tonight?”

“Guy stuff,” Stark told her. “We’ll hit a strip joint, pick up some easy women and bring them home with us.”

She was amused rather than annoyed, of course, and her smile proved it.

“And then what?”

“Feed them chicken nuggets and tater tots and play Legos, probably.”

Pepper chuckled.

“Want company, this evening?” she asked. “Or is it going to be just the guys?”

“No, I’d love company. Then they can’t gang up on me if they come up with something outrageous that they want to do.”

“Is that a concern?”

“Not really,” he conceded. “But you never know. Want to ride home with us?”

“I’ll stop at home and change, and then be over in time to have dinner with you guys.”

“You should leave some clothes at my place,” he told her. “Then you wouldn’t have to go home, first.”

“Are you ready for such a big step?” she asked him, raising an eyebrow but still looking more amused than concerned.

“Sure.”

“Is _Peter_?”

“I think so. I can always ask Dr. Wayne what he thinks.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not a _lot_ of clothes,” he said, quickly. “I don’t want you using up all my closet space.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I have a meeting. You’re invited.”

“Does that mean that I _have_ to come?”

“No. But it wouldn’t hurt for you to know what’s going on.”

“Then, of course, I’ll come.”

“Don’t look so put upon,” she told him, reaching for his hand as they stood up and squeezing it, lightly, before she let it go. “It isn’t a long meeting.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he replied, smiling to show that he wasn't too serious.

He was getting better about a lot of things, lately. And not just eating healthier and getting more sleep at night.

“I’m running it.”

><><><><><>

They stopped at the store on their way home. They had to, since Tony knew they only had a few slices of bread and he was certain that the toaster was going to get a lot of usage between the two boys. Loaded down with Ned’s overnight bag, a few bags of groceries and snacks, and Peter’s backpack, they parked in the garage to avoid the frigid wind that was blowing outside, picking up the remnants of the last snowfall and sending it in white sheets across the driveway as they pulled up.

“Looks like we’re probably going to be inside, this weekend,” Tony commented as he parked the car and the garage door rumbled closed behind the SUV.

“That’s okay,” Ned assured him, unbuckling his seatbelt. “It’s going to be fun.”

Peter nodded his agreement, and grabbed his backpack as he got out of the car.

“Yeah.”

Tony handed his son a bag of groceries and took two for himself, leaving Ned with only his bag of clothes and things to carry.

“Go help Ned get settled, and then you boys can meet me in the kitchen. Pepper’s coming for dinner, so we’ll get everything started.”

He nudged the door open with his foot and Ned held it for them while they walked in and set the groceries on the island.

_“Welcome, Ned.”_

The boy’s eyes lit up with excitement. He knew all about JARVIS, of course, and had even heard him speak at the housewarming party, but it was the first time the AI had spoken to him, directly.

“Hi, JARVIS. Thanks.”

Peter smiled at his friend’s cheerfulness.

“Come on,” he told Ned, also excited – but for a different reason. “I have something to show you.”

“What?”

“You’ll see.”

Tony smiled, too, but didn’t follow the boys as they headed for Peter’s room. He already knew what Peter was going to show Ned. The bunkbeds in Peter’s room at the compound – and, of course, the ones at the cabin in the _boonies_ – had been such a success that Tony had asked his son if he’d like to replace the full bed that was in Peter’s room with a set like the ones at the compound; a full bed with a single on top.

Peter had agreed, immediately, not surprisingly, and they’d been delivered and set up within hours of Tony’s ordering them. Peter hadn’t seen them, yet, but he knew that they’d been delivered, because Tony had told him at lunch when he’d checked in with him.

Now it was just a matter of seeing who was going to end up with the coveted top bunk that night.


	145. 145

By the time Pepper arrived, dinner was in the oven, and there was a fire in the gas fireplace.

Tony was the only one to meet her when she pulled up to the front of the house – and then into the garage when JARVIS opened the door, without being told. He walked over and opened her car door for her, and the garage door closed, cutting off the sound of the howling wind.

“Where are the boys?” she asked as she unbuckled her seatbelt and took the hand that he offered her.

Tony kissed her, soundly, before pulling back.

“They’re playing the piano.” If she’d waited until they’d gone through the kitchen door, she’d have known, immediately. “Peter’s teaching Ned how to play the Emperor’s March from Star Wars.”

“Fun.”

“It’s entertaining them and keeping them out of trouble,” he pointed out. He smiled when she kissed him, once more. “And I get a chance to come say hi, just the two of us.”

Which made her smile, too.

“Something smells delicious,” Pepper commented when they walked into the kitchen from the garage.

“Casserole. Peter and Ned helped put it together, so if it turns out to badly, pretend it’s good and we’ll accidently drop it on the floor, or something and order a pizza.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Pepper!”

While they’d been talking, the music from the other room had stopped, and Peter and Ned came into the room. Peter rushed over and hugged her, tightly, and Pepper swung him up into her arms, amused (and enchanted) by the fact that he was acting as if he hadn’t seen her in days, instead of merely hours.

“Hello, sweetheart.” She smiled at Ned, who was watching, but didn’t seem to need a hug by way of greeting. “Hi, Ned.”

“Hi, Miss Potts.” He smiled, happily. “We made dinner.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“I’m teaching Ned to play the piano,” Peter told her, hugging her, again, but then squirming so she’d know he wanted down. She complied, immediately. “We’re going to start a band.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“They’re both going to play the _piano_ ,” he informed her. “So it’ll be interesting to see how that works out.”

“True.” She tousled the boy’s hair, fondly. “What’s for dinner?”

“Casserole.”

The two boys ushered her into the living room to sit on the sofa, all the while telling her about getting the noodles boiled, and the vegetables and chicken and soup cans all mixed together and then covered. It was quite a production, and she made a point to pay attention – just in case there were to be a quiz or something at the end of the discourse.

“Coffee, Pep?” Tony asked her from the kitchen. “Or something stronger?”

She rolled her eyes, but was thoroughly enjoying herself.

“Coffee, please.”

He brought it out, and settled on the couch with her.

“Why don’t you guys go find something to do for a while?” Tony suggested, deciding that she wasn't quite ready to be the center of attention to both boys, just yet. “Dinner is in about forty-five minutes.”

“Okay.”

Peter rolled himself over the back of the couch and Ned followed suit when Tony didn’t yell at him for doing it. The two boys vanished into the game room, but they didn’t hear them start playing the piano, again.

“They’ll settle a little once we stuff them full of dinner,” Stark told her.

“They’re fine,” she assured him. “It’s good for Peter to have his friend over, isn’t it?”

“I assume so. If it isn’t the boys, why do you look so distracted?”

Which proved that he knew her well – and was good at reading her, because she had tried not to let it show. She shrugged, allowing her expression to turn slightly annoyed.

“I’m going to have to rent a hotel room for a week, or so, starting Monday.”

“Because…?”

“Some woman in the floor under my apartment swears she saw a roach, and I had a message waiting for me when I got home, telling me that the building is going to be fumigated. Do you have any idea just how inconvenient this is going to be?” Now she sounded exasperated. “And it probably wasn't even a roach. The building is cleaned, and there are exterminators who come regularly. For all I know, she saw a raisin, or something.”

Tony smiled.

“Why would you go to a hotel?” he asked her.

“Because I’m not going to fit all my clothes in a refrigerator box on the corner,” Pepper reminded him.

“So you can come stay with us. We have plenty of room.”

“I don’t know…”

“You can stay in the guest room,” he told her. “It doesn’t have to be weird.”

“I should probably just get a hote-“

“I’ll have Peter ask you.”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

“You know that isn’t going to work every time, right?”

“It only has to work, _this_ time,” he replied, taking her hand. “It’ll be a good chance for us to get Peter used to the idea of you spending more time with us. And for you to get used to us,” he added.

She hesitated, despite his easy acceptance of the idea.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup. Peter will be, too, when we ask him.”

“Alright, then. We’ll try it.”

He beamed, and pulled her into his arms, lightly holding her, and brushing a kiss against her temple.

“Good. Starting Monday?”

“Yes.”

“We can move your things in when we take Ned home, tomorrow.”

“Monday,” she repeated.

“It’ll take a day or two to get you settled,” he pointed out, reasonably. “You don’t want to do it on a Monday, do you? You’ll have a million other things requiring your time and attention.”

She sighed, amused, and gave in – mainly because he was probably right – and relaxed against him.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

They were quiet, just enjoying the peaceful quiet of the room, and the somewhat hypnotic glow from the fireplace. Right up until they heard the door to the game room open, and Peter and Ned head into the kitchen. Tony could have ignored that, assuming that the boys were getting a snack – although right before dinner wasn't really the best time to find something to eat. There was the sound of several different drawers and then cupboards opening and closing, and he pulled away from Pepper to look over toward the kitchen.

“What are you guys up to?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Ned answered.

“I can’t find the garbage bags,” Peter said.

“They’re under the sink.”

“Not the little white ones. The big ones. The black ones with the picture of leaves on the box.”

Pepper frowned, looking at Tony, who also looked confused.

“Why do you need them?” he asked.

There was a slight pause, and a muffled conversation that he couldn’t quite make out.

“We’re doing an experiment,” Ned told him.

“What kind of experiment?”

Now Stark was turned toward the kitchen, but the island was blocking his view of the boys.

“Drag,” Peter replied. “And gravity. I found them.”

Tony frowned.

“Why do you need garbage bags to – no. You are _not_ making parachutes out of garbage bags.”

Pepper frowned, standing up when Tony did.

“What?”

She followed the billionaire into the kitchen, and Peter and Ned looked up at the two adults, eyes wide and innocent. Peter was holding the box of garbage bags – and Pepper saw that it did, indeed, have a picture of leaves on it.

“It’s safe,” Ned said, quickly. “Kyle told me that one of the guys at his school did it. He jumped off their garage and the garbage bag made a perfect parachute.”

“He said that, did he?” Tony asked. Kyle was Eric’s biological son, Stark knew. He’d met him several times, now. A good kid – but still a teenaged boy. “Did he happen to mention if his friend was injured?”

“He said he just landed hard.”

“We weren’t going to jump off the garage,” Peter said, reasonably. “It’s too high.”

“What were you going to jump off?” Pepper asked, curiously.

“The pool table.”

She snorted, amused, and Tony rolled his eyes.

“No.”

“The math is good,” Ned said, quickly. “I figured it out, earlier, and Peter double-checked it, just now.”


	146. 146

“As much as I appreciate that, and trust Peter’s math – _and_ your own – there’s no way I’m going to allow you two to jump off the pool table, or anything else,” he added. “If you really want to try something like that in a controlled experiment, we can set something up – tomorrow – with a dummy, or a bundle of cloth that weighs the same as one of you and see what happens.”

“But it’s more fun if you do the experiment, yourself,” Peter said, smiling, hopefully. “Like _you_ did when you were learning how to use your first suit.”

“Yeah,” Ned agreed, looking equally excited. “ _You_ wouldn’t have put a bundle of cloth in your suit and shot it into the air, would you?”

Tony frowned down at the two.

“How do you know about my first suit?” he asked.

“JARVIS told me,” Peter said.

“And Peter told me,” Ned added. “It’s so cool. You shooting way up in the sky, and then crashing into that car. And-“

“I was encased in _armor_ ,” Tony pointed out. “And still managed to hurt myself.”

“But you didn’t die,” Peter replied.

The billionaire turned to Pepper, who was smiling as she watched the exchange.

“Are you _listening_ to this?”

She nodded.

“Yes.”

She had to cover her face, though, to keep them from seeing that she was smiling. He scowled, seeing the amusement in her expressive eyes, and turned back to the boys.

“Okay. The answer is no. Got it? You can’t endanger yourselves for science, especially not because JARVIS told you that I did. I was a grown up when I made my first suit, and when _you_ guys are grown ups, then you can do whatever you want in the name of science.”

“But-“

“ _Your_ dad would kill me if I let you get hurt,” he interrupted, looking at Ned. “And _Natasha_ will kill me if I let you do something dumb and hurt yourself,” the billionaire said to Peter. “Not to mention, it would ruin Pepper’s evening if we had to make a trip to the emergency room. Right?”

Peter hesitated, looking from Tony over to Pepper. He clearly hadn’t considered that.

“Yeah. That would be _bad_ , wouldn’t it?”

“It would.”

“Okay.”

The boy handed the box of garbage bags over to his father, who took them and handed them to Pepper. Then he knelt down and gathered both boys into his arms and hugged them.

“You two are so freaking _smart_. You know that, right?”

Ned nodded, clearly surprised by the embrace, but definitely okay with the idea, and Peter was never one to decline a hug from pretty much anyone.

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

Stark ruffled their hair, affectionately.

“Dinner’s almost ready. Go get cleaned up – and straighten up any mess in the game room, if you made one.”

“Okay.”

The boys left, smiling, and Tony stood up, again, shaking his head.

“Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t the only time I’m going to be having that kind of conversation with him?”

“Probably with both of them,” Pepper said. “Ned’s intelligent, too – and he’s going to be in Peter’s school, next year, right?”

“Ugh.”

She smiled, and hugged him.

“You loved it.”

“What?” he pretended to be offended, but she was right; he loved the fact that they were so smart. And so eager to put those brains to the test. Maybe a little too fearless for his peace of mind, but so amazing. “ _No_ …”

“Uh huh.” A soft kiss, because he had looked so adorable arguing with a little boy over being reckless – when he had been the worst, and she knew it better than anyone. “Are you really going to do that experiment with them, tomorrow?”

“If they want to. We could probably rig something up, in the morning.”

“Would it have worked?”

“Maybe with _Peter_ – with several bags taped together, and if he jumped from high enough up that the bags had a chance to slow his fall. He’s pretty light, after all. Ned would have plummeted, though, and maybe broken something, and then Eric would have killed me, and you would have been left to raise my poor little guy all alone.”

She smiled.

“He’s pretty adorable.”

“He wanted to jump off the pool table with a garbage bag for a parachute.”

“He’s _eight_ ,” Pepper reminded him. “Wait until he’s old enough to want a motorcycle.”

Stark rolled his eyes.

“That’s never happening.”

“Come help me set the table,” she told him, kissing him, again. “We’ll feed them, and then settle in for boardgames or a movie, or something, and distract them from science.”

The kiss was sweet, and he deepened it for just a moment before forcing himself to step back.

“Sounds good.”

><><><><><

“This is pretty fun.”

Peter smiled, looking at the arrangement of sheets and blankets that were hanging from the top bunk – held in place by books, or by being tucked under the mattress, or, in one case, with a handy piece of duct tape.

“Yeah. I never built a fort before. It’s pretty neat.”

They were standing by the bottom bed, but they couldn’t see much of it because of the ‘walls’ surrounding it on all side but the side closest to Peter’s bedroom wall. After they’d eaten, and had been sent to get pajamas on – and had been assured that they didn’t have to go to bed, yet, they just had to be _ready_ for bed – Ned had taken a look at the new bunk bed and asked if Peter wanted to make a fort and if he thought Tony would care.

Peter hadn’t thought to ask, really, but a quick query to JARVIS had given the boys the assurance that it would be fine, and they’d started dismantling the bedding, immediately, to make the walls of the fort under Ned’s directions. Now that it was done, Peter couldn’t help but feel excited.

A knock on his door made both of them look over, and Tony stuck his head in.

“You guys about read-“ he stopped when he saw the bunkbed creation. “ _Wow_.”

“Look what we made,” Peter told him, happily.

“It’s a _fort_ ,” Ned said – in case he couldn’t figure it out.

“I see that.” The billionaire smiled and walked into the room so he could look inside the large area created by the blankets and sheets. “That’s impressive.”

“We’re going to sleep in it, tonight,” Peter said.

“Sounds like fun.”

“You can sleep in it, too,” Ned offered.

“And _Pepper_ , too,” Peter added.

“She isn’t staying the night,” Tony replied, amused. “Otherwise, I’m sure she’d appreciate the offer.”

The boys beamed, pleased at the way Tony admired their handiwork.

“Yeah.”

“We’re setting the game up,” he told them, returning to his original reason for knocking on the door in the first place. “Are you guys still planning on playing with us?”

Both boys nodded and abandoned their fort in Peter’s room to follow Tony out to the living room. Pepper smiled a greeting, and Ned and Peter went to the other side of the coffee table to sit on the floor, leaving the couch for the adults.

“What took you so long?” she asked.

“They made a _fort_ ,” Tony told her, settling beside her and reaching for the deck of UNO cards. “Which I have been invited to sleep in, with them, tonight.”

“You could, too,” Ned assured her. “But Mr. Stark said that you aren’t spending the night.”

Pepper smiled at the offer.

“Thank you, though. That’s very kind.”

The boy looked pleased with himself, and Tony had to smile, too.

“Pepper _is_ going to be staying with us, though,” he told them – _Peter_ , mostly. “Her apartment is being fumigated and she needs a place to stay, next week, so I invited her to stay here. You’re okay with that, right?”

Peter’s eyes widened, lighting up with excitement.

“Yeah.”

“For how long?” Ned asked, also looking excited.

“It might be as long as a week,” Pepper said, feeling a warmth go through her at Peter’s reaction. It was nice to be welcomed, after all – and she wasn't immune to that. “It depends on how long they take to clear the air at my apartment.”

“ _Four_ weeks,” Peter countered.

Tony smirked.

“It’s not a negotiation thing, son.”

“Why not?”

“Because that isn’t how this kind of thing works. She’ll stay as long as she needs – and as long as she wants – but when she’s tired of us, then she gets to go home.”

“Oh.”

Stark chuckled.

“Don’t sweat it, buddy. Tomorrow when we drop Ned off at home, you and I will help Pepper bring some of her things over here, so she doesn’t feel like she’s a refugee.”

Peter nodded, even though he didn’t understand the reference. Pepper smiled at it, though, and that was good enough, he supposed.

“Okay.”

“Deal the cards, Tony,” Pepper ordered, still smiling.

“Yes, dear.”

She raised an eyebrow at that, but Ned and Peter missed the endearment, completely, and watched Tony, waiting for their cards. Both boys were eager to play UNO – especially with adults who had plenty of time for them.


	147. Chapter 147

It was fairly late by the time they finished playing. Recognizing that the boys weren’t tired, or ready for bed, yet, Tony sent them into the kitchen to find a snack and told them to go play. Peter and Ned didn’t look at all upset at being dismissed. Instead, they were cheerful as they headed into the kitchen and Peter opened the fridge, while Ned opened the pantry door that he already knew held the chips and cookies.

“Can we make _toast_?” Peter asked Tony, raising his voice to be heard.

The billionaire had just finished putting the cards in the box, and was leaning back against the soft leather of the sofa, an arm already going around Pepper.

“Yes. Clean up after yourselves, though.”

“Okay.”

He heard them talking, but couldn’t hear what they were saying, and heard the rattling of the butter dish and the cupboard where the bread was kept slamming shut.

“You _do_ remember that it’s going to be _batman_ toast and just how popular it was, the first time he and Ned started making toast…?” Pepper reminded him, adroitly.

He smiled and released her, standing up.

“Good point. Want to come and keep me company while I supervise to make sure we still have bread, come morning?”

“Sure.”

><><><><>><<>

The boys were in their fort when Pepper left.

She went in to Peter’s room to say goodbye and found both of them were asleep.

“You could just _stay_ ,” Tony reminded her once she had closed the door behind her, to avoid waking them. “I don’t mean so that you can I can have happy fun time,” he added, making her smile. “But because I like the idea of having you here when I wake up in the morning.”

Pepper slid into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him and wallowing in the sensation of being held by the man. She’d never have believed it if someone had told her that he was capable of finally settling down, but here he was.

“I need to get some things packed if I’m going to come over, tomorrow,” she told him, resting her cheek against his chest. “What time are you taking Ned home?”

“After lunch.” He buried his face in her hair for a moment. “We’ll come by your place when we’re done, and after we drop him off.”

“Sounds good.”

Tony hugged her, tightly, for just a moment longer, and then released her.

“I’ll go get your coat.”

“Thank you.”

<><><><><>

Eric was the only one at the Tatro home when Tony dropped off Ned. He smiled when he walked out to meet them in the driveway, and hugged his son, cheerfully, when the boy hopped out of the SUV. Peter got out, also, and hugged the large man, happily.

“Where’s everyone else?” the boy asked, noticing that the large UV they used when transporting all the boys was gone, and no one else had come out to meet them.

It was _Ironman_ , after all, despite the fact that the others had seen him plenty of times, before. The boys would still have come out to say hello, and Peter knew it.

“They all went to the new DC movie,” Eric said, scooping Peter up into his arms for a moment before settling him on his feet.

“You should have said something,” Tony told him, also getting out so he could shake hands with the man. “We could have kept Ned a few more hours so you could go, too.”

Eric shook his head, reaching down to put a hand on Ned’s head.

“I was hoping to have some alone time with him, here,” he replied. “So it works out well.” He looked at the two boys, who were looking up at him, cheerfully. “Did you have fun?”

“We made a fort,” Ned said.

“And had toast – and played UNO,” Peter added.

“Miss Potts was there.”

“We slept in the fort.”

“We had toast for breakfast.”

“And we played pool.”

“And with Legos.”

Eric smiled and the sudden rush of information.

“Why don’t you go put your bag in your room?” he told Ned, amused.

“Okay.”

“Can I help him?” Peter asked Tony.

“Yes. But come right back. We have things to do, right?”

Since those things included going to Pepper’s, next, Peter nodded and grabbed Ned’s bag from the car, easily, and ran into the house with his friend right beside him.

“How did it _really_ go?” Eric asked Tony.

“It was great,” the billionaire assured him. “We spent some time this morning with my AI’s simulator, going over the various reasons why a large garbage bag will not create enough drag to be used as a parachute. I think I’ve convinced him, but if Ned comes walking by with a box of them in his hand – and you didn’t send him out to rake the yard – you might want to intervene.”

The bigger man laughed at that.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks. He looked back toward the house. “I should probably warn you…”

“Oh?”

“Nancy and I are getting a puppy. Mostly for Ned, but he’ll be everyone’s.”

“And you’re warning me because you think Peter might want one, as well?”

“Right. You never know with little guys like him. A friend gets one, and he might want one, too.”

Tony smiled at that, and then his smile widened when the boys reappeared at the front door and ran out to the driveway.

“Thanks for the heads up,” he said, sincerely. “If he wants one, we’ll get him one – otherwise, I’ll just bring him over here to play with yours until he loses the bug.”

Tatro snorted, amused, and caught Ned up into his arms, easily, as Tony opened the car door for Peter to scramble into his booster seat.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“What plan?” Ned asked, curiously, grinning at Tony from the impressive view point he had in his new father’s arms.

“ _Secret Avenger_ plans,” Tony replied, almost automatically. “And don’t nag your dad, here, because he doesn’t know all about them, yet.”

Ned groaned, theatrically, and Stark winked at Eric.

“Did you thank Tony for having you?” Tatro asked Ned, pointedly.

The boy smiled.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“You’re welcome. We’ll do it, again, soon,” he was assured. “It was fun.”

><><><><><

They left and drove to Pepper’s apartment, next.

She answered their knock – even though there was a doorbell, Tony just didn’t want to use it – and smiled down at Peter.

“Did you get Ned delivered home, safely?” she asked as she moved aside so they could enter.

“Yeah,” Peter replied. “He’s going to hang out with Eric, today. Everyone else went to see Batman.”

She looked surprised – maybe because Tony hadn’t taken Peter to see it, as well – and the billionaire winked, obviously understanding the question in her expression.

“It’s rated PG-13,” he explained. “I’m going to check it out before Peter and I go see it – just to make sure.”

“It might be too _scary_ for him,” Peter explained, climbing onto Pepper’s couch and watching them.

Pepper had left a plate of cookies on the coffee table, and there was a bottle of juice – a sure sign that she didn’t have any chocolate milk.

Tony rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny it.

“Are you packed?” he asked.

“Almost. Peter, honey, have a cookie while I make your dad help me decide what to bring.”

“You’re not leaving the country,” he reminded her, following her into the bedroom and leaving Peter happily munching on an Oreo. “If you need something, you can come back for it, right?”

“Unless they’ve already started fumigating.”

“Good point.” He looked around the room. She had two bags on her bed. One was a large suitcase, which was already zipped closed and bulging, while the other was a garment bag that held several outfits that she would want for work, the next week. “Don’t forget your toothbrush. I’m not sharing mine.”

Pepper smiled.

“We’re not there, yet?”

Tony shrugged, and kissed her, lightly.

“Maybe.”

“I’ve already packed it.”

“If there’s anything you need, we can get it,” he assured her.

“I know. I just don’t want to be an imposition.”

“We’re looking forward to it,” Tony told her.

She rolled her eyes and then closed the garment bag.

“Just for that, you get to carry the heavy bag.”

He laughed, and reached for it, making a show of just how heavy it was – although it really was a bit heavy.

“I’ll have _Peter_ carry it.”

They walked out and found that the boy was on the sofa, still, but he was on his knees looking over the back of it and watching them, one cookie in his hand and his mouth full of another.

“How many of those have you had?” Pepper asked.

Knowing that he wasn't supposed to talk with his mouth full, he simply held up two fingers on the hand that wasn't holding the cookie.

“No more, okay?” Tony told him.

“Okay.”

“Did you two have lunch?” Pepper asked.

“Yes.” Tony smiled at his son. “The fine folks at McDonald’s made sure we had plenty of French fries and chicken nuggets.”

“And a shake,” Peter added, his mouth cleared enough, now, to have a real conversation. “It was good.”

“We’re not having fast food for dinner, though, right?” she verified.

“We’re having Hamburger Helper,” Peter assured her. “It’s good, too.”

“Did you clear your fridge?” Tony asked. “Or are you going to come home to science experiments growing in there?”

“I took care of it, this morning,” Pepper told him. “There were a couple of us at the trash chute throwing things that would spoil.”

“Smart.” He looked around. “Are you ready?”

“Let me get my jacket.”

While she was doing that, Tony picked up the bottle of juice that Peter hadn’t even opened, and put it in his pocket so it wouldn’t be sitting out all the next week, either. He handed the cookies that remained on the plate to his son.

“Put those in your pocket for later.”

“Okay.”

Pepper returned just as Peter was hopping off the sofa, excited, and she smiled to see him so happy.

“Let’s go.”


	148. 148

They took both cars.

Pepper probably wasn't going to need her car with her – she’d ride with Tony to the tower every day that she was staying with them – but you never knew, she said, and Stark agreed. He wasn't even annoyed when Peter turned his big, brown, hopeful, eyes on his father and asked if he could ride with _Pepper_ back to the house.

Tony agreed, of course, and Peter carried the heavy suitcase down to the parking garage, while Tony carried the garment bag, leaving only a small overnight bag for Pepper to tote. When they reached the cars, they loaded Pepper’s things into her car, and then transferred Peter’s booster seat into it, as well. Stark made sure his son was buckled in, and then walked around the car and opened Pepper’s door for her, as well, kissing her, softly.

“Drive safe,” he murmured into the kiss.

She smiled.

“I will.”

She would follow him to the house, and they would certainly be followed by at least one SHIELD vehicle, if not more. He didn’t even bother to call anyone to tell them Peter was riding with Pepper. They were good at their jobs and would notice.

The drive for _Tony_ was uneventful. The drive for _Pepper_ was filled with conversation from Peter, who told her all about the morning that he had spent with Ned, and with Tony, and how they’d done several scenarios with JARVIS to prove that the garbage bag thing probably wouldn’t have worked as well as he’d expected it would. He still thought that it might work – if he was the one who had jumped – but he was willing to concede that he might have been injured if he’d landed funny.

She listened as he explained the complicated math, and made the appropriate noises, and even asked a few questions. By the time they pulled into the garage at the house, she was once more reminded just how brilliant that little boy was – and how much she enjoyed his company. Even when he was in lecture mode.

It was adorable.

Tony was waiting by his car, and he once more held the door for her. She thought it was sweet, and wondered if it would ever get old to have him treat her like someone so cherished.

“Let’s get Pepper settled,” Tony told his son opening the back of the car so they could unload her things.

“Okay.”

This time the boy took the heavy suitcase in one hand and the garment bag in the other. He carried them easily, not even noticing just how heavy they were, but he was so small that both of them dragged across the kitchen floor, and then through the living room and into the guest room. Pepper followed, her hand in Tony’s, and they watched Peter flip the bags up onto the bed, negligently.

“Come here, buddy,” Tony said, picking Peter up and putting him on the bed, where Pepper joined him. “I want to go over some ground rules.”

“Are you talking to him?” Pepper asked, amused. “Or to me?”

The billionaire smiled.

“I meant _him_ ,” he assured her. “But you might as well hear them.”

“Of course.”

Tony looked at his son.

“This is _Pepper’s_ room, right?”

“Yeah.”

“If the door is closed, then you don’t bother her if she’s in here.”

“How come?”

“Because women need more privacy than men do, son,” Tony explained. “They don’t like having people watch them take off their makeup, or when they’re changing. If the door is closed, and it’s important, you knock and wait to hear her say if you can come in, or not. Got it?”

Peter nodded, smiling.

“Okay.”

Pepper gave him a one-armed hug and kissed the top of his head.

“But if I say you can come in, then of course you can come in,” she added.

“But you wait until she says so.”

“Okay.”

Tony smiled at him, but then looked at her.

“If you get tired of us, then this is your escape,” he said. “Come in here and close the door and we’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you.”

“We won’t be _annoying_ ,” Peter assured her.

“But we’re a lot of work, sometimes,” Tony reminded his son. “And we can be enough to make someone tired. Pepper works hard all day, remember? She’ll need a chance to relax.”

“For how long?”

“Until the door opens.”

“Okay.”

The billionaire reached over and ruffled his hair.

“Other than that, the rules with Pepper are the same ones that you and I already have. All right?”

“Yeah.”

“What rules are those?” she asked, curiously.

Peter smiled.

“No drinking, no smoking and no dangerous stuff.”

“Makes sense.” Pepper looked at the two. “What do you have planned for today?”

“No plans,” he admitted. “We’ll let you get settled in, and then we can spend a relaxing day doing nothing more exciting than building something with Legos, or maybe playing pool.”

“Can we go to the zoo, tomorrow?” Peter asked, suddenly excited.

Tony frowned.

“We’ve been to the zoo.”

It was one of the first excursions that they’d taken, together – before Tony had even considered being a foster parent, much less a _dad_.

“ _Pepper_ hasn’t, though,” the little boy pointed out.

“Is your homework done?”

“No.”

“Do your homework, tonight, and if Pepper wants to go to the zoo with us, tomorrow, then we’ll go to the zoo.”

Peter turned to look at her, hopefully, and she had to force herself not to roll her eyes at just how powerless she was, just then, looking at him.

“Do you want to go to the zoo, Pepper?”

“Walk around the zoo in the middle of winter?” she asked. “Of course, I do.”

“Yay!”

Tony caught his son before Peter could jump off the bed and rush to go do his homework. He swept him up into his arms.

“Let’s let Pepper unpack.”

“Okay.”

Tony smiled at her.

“We’ll be in the game room if you need anything. Or ask JARVIS to call.”

“He’s in here?”

“He’s _everywhere_ , Pep. No cameras, though – audio, only. I promise.”

“So _JARVIS_ can’t watch you take off your makeup, either,” Peter assured her, turning himself upside down in Tony’s grip so he could look at her from the odd angle.

She smiled, reaching for his nose and making him squeal with delight at the gesture, even as he squirmed to avoid her grasp.

“Good thing.”

><><><><><

She didn’t take long to unpack, and when she went looking for her hosts, Pepper found them in the game room as expected. They were playing pool, and Pepper leaned against the door, watching them for a moment, before they realized that she was there. When they _did_ notice, Tony smiled over at her, silently inviting her to join them.

“Who’s winning?” she asked, walking over and watching as Peter moved a small step stool to the far side to allow him to see well enough to look at the balls.

“I am,” Tony told her. “He’s pretty good, though.”

“Because it’s all about physics?” she guessed.

“Yes.” He smirked, watching as Peter’s shot went wide – clearly because the boy wasn’t completely comfortable wielding the long pool cue. “He has the math down, but making the ball go where he wants it to go is still something of a science for him. He’s getting better, though.”

“He’ll be a pool shark before he knows it,” she predicted, making the boy smile.

“Want to play winner?” Peter asked.

A glance at the table told her that there were many more stripes remaining than there were solids.

“Sure.”

“We’ll eat around six,” Tony said. He smiled, moving around the table to line up his own shot and bodily picking Peter up and moving him out of the way – which made the boy giggle. “But there are plenty of snacks in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

“I’m fine.”


	149. 149

Their first night of hosting Pepper was fairly low-key.

She’d been over enough times for dinner and other such things that it wasn't too much of a novelty to have her there. The real difference was the fact that she didn’t get up to leave when the movie was over. Peter had long since fallen asleep in Tony’s lap, and the billionaire smiled over at her when the final credits started rolling.

“I’m going to put him to bed.”

“Let me,” she said, standing up at reaching for the little boy.

He roused at the exchange, but Pepper murmured, tenderly, to him, brushing her lips against his cheek as she settled him in her arms.

“Are you coming back?” Tony asked, softly.

“Yes.”

He watched as she carried Peter into his bedroom, but didn’t get up from where he was, knowing that she already knew to put Peter into the bottom bunk. If he woke in the middle of the night, it wasn’t uncommon for him to move to the top one, but if he started in the bottom then there was enough space for bedtime stories and cuddles.

She returned a few minutes later, closing Peter’s door, silently, and then crossing the living room to reclaim her spot on the sofa.

“You know it’s snowing, outside?” she asked, melting into his side when he put an arm around her.

“Is it?”

Pepper nodded.

“I sneaked a peek out Peter’s bedroom window.”

“We’re _not_ going to the zoo, then.”

“He’ll be disappointed.”

“It’s _snow_. He’ll understand.” Tony kissed her temple, and she smiled. “Besides, he can play in the back yard for as long as he wants.”

There was a swimming pool, yes, but there wasn't any water in it, so it wasn't the danger, now, that it would be later when the weather warmed. With a full fence around the small estate, and JARVIS able to monitor anyone or anything that came anywhere near the house, Peter was safe, Tony knew.

There weren’t a lot of outdoor toys for him to play with, since they hadn’t built him a playset like he had at the compound, yet, but there was a soccer ball for him to kick around and chase, and plenty of room for him to run around. If he wanted – and there was enough snow – he could even make a snowman.

“We could go do something else,” she pointed out.

“We’ll see,” Stark told her. “He might not want to go do anything else. He’s really more of a homebody than you might think. Despite the constant trips to stay at the compound, he’s pretty happy playing Legos, and Hot Wheels, and watching movies. And he can do _those_ things anywhere.”

Pepper didn’t look convinced, but she had to concede that Tony knew the boy better than she did.

“He has an appointment with Dr. Wayne, Monday?”

“Every Monday,” Tony confirmed. “Unless we’re out of town, or something comes up.”

“And then daycare?”

“Yes. After he has his treat.”

She knew the schedule – somewhat – but if she was going to be staying with them, then she wanted to know it better. That way she could assist wherever Tony needed her to.

“Got it.” Pepper smiled, bringing his other arm around her, as well, so he was holding her closer. “Why don’t you bring him to my office?” she offered. “Then I can hear about his day at the same time and he won’t need to repeat himself.”

“Sounds good.” He nuzzled Pepper’s neck, ready to change the subject from Peter, since the boy was safely asleep, and there would be a small window of time for them to be adults. Not necessarily for sex, since neither of them had quite figured out if they were comfortable being that physical with Peter around, even asleep, but at least for them to reaffirm their own commitment to each other in their fledgling relationship. Tony thought maybe the physical thing might be a question for him to bring up with Peter’s psychologist. “Have I mentioned how glad I am to have you here?”

“Mmm… no.” Pepper tilted her head so he could kiss her. “I’m glad to be here. Thanks for offering.”

“Thanks for saying yes.”

Without any request from either of them, the lights in the living room turned low and the fireplace – which had been off during the movie – suddenly came on. Tony rolled his eyes, but Pepper didn’t notice – and really didn’t think it was odd. She just assumed that it was a program that he had set up with his house – like making sure the water was hot before the shower was turned on, or that coffee was started before Tony got out of bed.

Why have a smart house if you didn’t take advantage of those kind of things, after all?

She sighed, relaxing further, and simply settled in to enjoy the attention. Plenty of time to figure out the rest of their schedule as they went through the week.

><><><><><><>

He woke with a start, and sat up, looking around and recognizing, immediately, that he was in his room.

“JARVIS?”

_“I’m here,”_ came the response, in the AI’s calm and patient ‘voice’ _. “Are you alright?”_

“Yeah.” Peter looked around the room. He wasn't surprised to be there; he often fell asleep somewhere else and woke up in his bed. He liked that Tony carried him to bed – although he wished that he was awake, so he could also negotiate a story, or two, before going to sleep. “What time is it?”

_“Just after midnight. It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”_

“Is Tony awake?”

_“No. He’s in bed.”_

“Pepper?”

_“She is asleep, as well.”_

“Oh.”

_“Did you have a bad dream?”_

“Just a weird one. I’m okay.”

_“It is snowing.”_

The AI was clearly attempting to distract him, and it worked.

“It is?”

Peter pushed the blankets back and grabbed his bear. He tossed the stuffed animal up onto the top bunk before he climbed the ladder and joined it, pulling those blankets back – even though it meant that he’d need to remake both beds in the morning. One of his few chores, but he loved having two beds to choose from – and the top bunk gave him a better view out the window.

_“It is,”_ JARVIS confirmed, even as Peter pushed the curtain aside to look for himself.

One of the security lights came on, helpfully, to allow Peter to see the snow that was falling reflect in the light.

“Wow.” Peter hugged himself – and his bear. “Is it going to snow all night?”

_“It might. You will probably not go to the zoo, tomorrow.”_

“Yeah. It’s too cold.”

_“They will most likely keep most of the animals inside to keep them warm.”_

“Not the _polar bears_ , though.”

_“No.”_ The light outside turned off. _“Go back to sleep, Peter. Everything is fine.”_

The boy got under the blankets and lay down, but he was a little excited. Not only because the snow was falling, but because Pepper was there, at their house.

“Will you tell me a story?”

_“Of course. Close your eyes and I’ll tell you about the boys who live in the coldest places on earth, and how odd they would think it was that the sun rises and sets every day during the winter.”_

“Why is it odd?” Peter asked, curiously.

_“Because the angle of the earth makes it so it doesn’t actually set – in some places it doesn’t go under the horizon for months during the winter.”_

“Wow…” Peter nestled himself more comfortably against the pillow, feeling the warmth of the blankets and the softness of the bed. “How do they know when to go to sleep?”

_“Because their parents tell them.”_

“Oh.”

The AI answered a couple of more questions, but Peter wasn't as awake as he thought that he was, and the boy was soon sleeping, again – only now he was on the top bunk. JARVIS finished his story, and then went silent, monitoring the area, as he always did, but already accessing more details of the northern folk, in case he needed more stories for the future.


	150. 150

“She really wants us to go to her office?”

Tony smiled at how pleased Peter looked, and he nodded, squeezing his hand.

“Yes. She wants to hear how your appointment with Dr. Wayne went, and wants to know how school was. If you tell us both at the same time, then we don’t need to make you say it all twice.”

“That makes sense,” Peter conceded.

“She’s pretty clever that way.”

Tony was in a good mood. They’d had a pretty easy day, the day before – even though they’d definitely cancelled the trip to the zoo, since it was still snowing, lightly, when they’d woken up Sunday morning. Pepper and Peter had made pancakes and after breakfast Peter had bundled up and gone out to play in the snow. Pepper and Tony had joined him after cleaning the kitchen, but it was cold, and they’d ended up going back inside to warm up – although Peter spent most of the morning building a small army of tiny snowmen and gathering them around a snow castle that he built using a couple of shoe box-sized plastic boxes to make bricks.

He’d gone inside for lunch, and had been convinced that it wasn't a bad idea to stay inside where he was warm. They’d played with the piano for a while, with Tony and Peter showing off their repertoire to Pepper, who was properly impressed with both of them, and then had played board games at the dining table until it was time for dinner.

Peter had then been sent to take a bath, and when he returned, cleaner and still a little damp, but now dressed in pajamas, he’d been settled on the sofa between Pepper and Tony and they’d watched a movie before Tony carried him to bed, freeing Pepper to take a bath, too, and get her schedule prepped for the next day.

Maria had picked Peter up that morning, and Tony had driven himself and Pepper to the tower, where they parted ways so he could check on the progress of the new suit, while she had some meetings. They’d eaten lunch together and Tony had verified that she really did want them to swing by her office before he took Peter down to daycare. She’d told him that she was looking forward to it – and had told him that she had cleared that portion of her day for the next week, so they could do it every day.

Tony had picked his son up at school, and had taken him to his appointment with Dr. Wayne – and had remembered to ask the man about how (or if) he should address Pepper sleeping over, and maybe in his bed. To his relief, the doctor hadn’t vetoed the idea, and had given Tony a few different suggestions on addressing the issue with Peter – and with Pepper.

Now they were back in the tower, and heading to Pepper’s office, stopping at Tony’s only long enough to drop off Peter’s backpack and coat.

“Pepper’s in her office, JARVIS?” Tony clarified.

_“She is,”_ the AI confirmed. “ _She is not alone.”_

“Oh? Is it a meeting?”

He looked at Peter, who smiled, clearly not concerned.

“ _An unexpected one,”_ JARVIS replied. _“She would almost certainly appreciate your arrival to end the meeting as soon as possible.”_

Now Tony was curious. He offered Peter his hand.

“We’ll go crash her meeting,” he told his son. “And send whoever it is packing, so we can have her to ourselves. Sound good?”

Peter nodded, his eyes excited.

“Yeah.”

><>><><><><><>

Pepper Potts was irritated and not bothering to hide it – too much. The man sitting in the chair across from her desk was not her favorite person in the world by any means, and he was even more annoying when he was trying to be slick, talking to her in a coaxing manner and trying to convince her to do something she had no intention of doing.

Justin Hammer hadn’t called ahead. Hadn’t asked if she had a moment to listen to a business proposal before he actually showed up in the lobby with a couple of his bodyguards in tow and demanded ( _demanded_!) that the receptionist at the marble desk call Pepper and tell her that he was there and wanted to talk to her about a new deal that would make both of them incredibly wealthy. She’d scowled, but rather than sending him away, she’d decided that it would be easier to hear him out before declining whatever proposal that he had in mind.

She had a date with Peter in less than half an hour, after all, and she didn’t want to put it on hold. Especially not for Justin hammer.

He’d walked into her office like he owned the place, and had scowled when Pepper immediately sent his bodyguards packing to wait outside – or even better down the hall in the employee break room where they weren’t going to be in anyone else’s way or looming around her doorway. Then the man had the audacity to sit down at her desk, reach over and help himself to one of the cookies that she’d set out for Peter’s arrival.

Now she was listening to him map out a proposal for a merger of one of SI’s larger tech companies with one of his manufacturing companies. A deal that she’d made perfectly clear wasn't going to happen, since it involved products that another SI company was already contracted to manufacture – and at a better price for all parties involved.

Pepper let him wind down, and then told him no, _again_. He was just beginning his third attempt to change her mind when there was a knock on the door and Tony poked his head into her office, clearly warned ahead of time that she was in a meeting. From the way his expression darkened – even from a distance – she knew that he _hadn’t_ known who she was meeting with, however.

The door opened, further, and Peter came in. _He_ didn’t stop to check things out, instead hurrying over to say hello and only giving Hammer a cursory glance as he did.

“Hi, Pepper,” he said, moving stand beside her chair behind the desk, his eyes happy as he looked up at her.

Pepper ignored the annoyed look that Hammer gave the boy, and reached down to brush her fingers along his cheek.

“Hi, honey. Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah. Did you?”

“I did. I-“

“Who is _that_?” Hammer asked, interrupting.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Tony asked, walking over before Pepper could reply. “Shouldn’t you be under some rock, somewhere…?”

“Yeah, that’s cute, Anthony,” the other man replied. He looked from the man to the boy, and his eyes widened, slightly. “Is this the kid you adopted? Ricky?”

“I’m _Peter_ ,” Peter told him, helpfully.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“It’s over.”

“High schools get out earlier than elementary schools do,” Tony said. He looked at Pepper, trying to get an idea of how mad she’d be at him if he was a total ass to the other man, but her expression was carefully neutral as she smiled down at Peter. “Peter’s been out of class for over an hour, now.”

“So he really _is_ as smart as I heard…” the man trailed off, looking even more annoyed as Peter decided that he wanted to be closer to Pepper, so he climbed into her lap, and reached for a cookie. “I assumed it was exaggeration.”

“Where did you hear that?” Tony asked.

“He lived with my second cousin, for a while. Chelsea Marples. Until you decided to interfere.” Hammer looked at the boy for a moment, giving him a smile that was probably supposed to be warm and welcoming, but looked greasy, instead. “If I’d known he was really that smart, I’d have adopted him, myself.”


	151. 151

“Peter has better taste than that,” Stark said, not hiding his annoyance – especially when he saw the uncertainty that the comment caused in Peter’s expression. “Why are you _here_?”

“I’m in a meeting,” Hammer said, also annoyed. “A _private_ meeting. Why are _you_ here? And why is _he_? Shouldn’t he be at the babysitter’s? Or do you have a nanny for him?”

“ _I’m_ here because my name is on the building,” Tony reminded the man. “Because it’s _mine_. And some day, it’ll be _Peter’s_ , so he’ll come and go as he pleases.”

“We’re done, anyway,” Pepper said, bringing her arms around the little boy in her arms and holding him in place, brushing a kiss against his cheek from behind, which made him smile, despite the animosity that he could practically feel in the room coming from the two men, who were facing off and clearly not friends. “Justin? You know where the door is,” she added, pointedly.

“We only just got started…”

“I have an important meeting,” she told him, squeezing Peter, lightly, when she said it, and proving that she didn’t need Tony to save her from the man – although she was genuinely pleased to see him. “The answer is still no, but thank you for thinking of us.”

“But-“

“Time to go,” Tony interrupted. “Peter’s going to tell us about his day and that’s _far_ more important than anything you might have to say.”

The man scowled.

“I’m not leaving just because some little-“

“Do I call _security_?” Pepper asked, interrupting before Hammer could say anything that might hurt Peter’s feeling – or really anger either of them. “Perhaps another restraining order…?”

“That was a _temporary injunction_ ,” he snapped, standing up. “No wonder Chelsea didn’t want the kid anywhere near you guys. I can’t imagine what kind of terror he’s going to grow up being, with Tony Stark as an example.”

Without waiting for a response, the man turned and left in a huff, even going so far as to slam the door behind him.

Tony walked over to stand next to Pepper’s chair so he could reach down and put his hand on Peter’s hair – and maybe get a measure of how Hammer’s words might have affected him. Peter turned and put his face in Pepper’s collarbone.

“I don’t like him,” the little boy muttered into the fabric of her blouse.

Pepper smiled up at Tony, brushing her hand along Peter’s back, and pressing a firm kiss against the side of his head.

“He isn’t a very nice man,” she agreed.

Tony frowned.

“Did he make your stomach hurt?” the billionaire asked his son, kneeling down beside the chair so they could be on the same level. “Like Sitwell did when you met him?”

“No. He’s just mean.”

“That, he is. Come here, son…” he said, giving Pepper a chance to loosen her hold on him, and Peter a chance to turn and look at him before he offered him his hands, which Peter accepted, allowing Tony to pluck him from Pepper’s lap and hold him in his own strong arms. “Someone like that… he was already angry, and looking for a way to hurt the feelings of everyone else to make himself feel better. That’s why he said those things. I’m surprised he didn’t call Pepper a _nose picker_ , or something.”

Peter sniffed. He didn’t know if he was supposed to cry or be mad, but he _felt_ more like crying. And he’d trembled just a little at the reminder of Miss Marples – although it had taken him a moment to realize that the other man had been talking about the woman he’d lived with after leaving Eric’s.

“I didn’t like it.”

“I know, buddy. I didn’t like it, either. He won’t be back.”

Peter put his head on Tony’s shoulder, but turned to he’d be able to see Pepper’s reaction to almost being called a nose picker. She gave him a smile that made his heart feel funny and caused an entirely different kind of ache in his stomach. A wonderful one that left him warm and loved. It made him smile, too, and the urge to cry was swept away.

“I saw Dr. Bruce, today,” he told her.

“I know. How did it go?”

“I told him that you’re staying with us.”

The boy lifted his head, now, and looked far more cheerful than he had only a moment before.

“You _did_? What did he say?”

“He asked me how I felt about it. He _always_ asks how I feel about things.”

Tony put Peter down, and the youngster climbed into the chair that Hammer had abandoned. Tony smiled at Pepper, and sat down, too.

Disaster averted.

“What did you say?” she asked.

“That I’m happy.”

“Tell her why,” Tony suggested.

“Because I like you,” he told Pepper.

Awwww.

She smiled.

“I like you, too,” she assured him.

“Thank you.”

He reached for another cookie.

“We’re going to skip daycare, today,” Tony told Pepper. “What time will you be ready to go home?”

“Around five. What are you guys going to do?”

“When we’re done with our snack, we’re going to go to my workroom. My suit is done. There’s some programming, still, to do, but I’m going to let _Peter_ be the first to see it.”

The boy beamed, practically wriggling with excitement, but not with surprise. Which told Pepper that Tony had already made this plan with him, and that it wasn't a way to cheer him up from the unexpected visit from Justin Hammer.

“That sounds like fun.”

“It’s going to be great,” Peter agreed, happily.

Stark winked at her, telling her without words that he’d had a conversation with the doctor, as well, and then he reached for a cookie, too.

“Tell Pepper about the rest of the visit,” he suggested.

She took a cookie and listened to Peter describe his appointment with all the care that she’d give one of her Vice Presidents – and a lot more smiles.

Even when he sprayed half-chewed cookie on her desk in his eagerness to tell her everything.

><<><><><>

The suit was awesome.

Tony would have let the little boy wear the thing, even fresh out of the manufacturing chamber, but it was much too big for him, and not flexible.

“The next one is going to be different,” Stark said as he set Peter on his worktable and put the right hand gauntlet on the boy’s hand and forearm. It was so big that it went well over his elbow, but the excitement on Peter’s face when he closed it up plainly said that the little guy didn’t care. “JARVIS and I will be ready to try the nanite tech, and those will conform themselves to fit, perfectly.”

“Even _me_?” Peter asked, turning his arm and ‘aiming’ the pulsar cannon at the far wall – where there was a convenient mirror that allowed him to see just how cool he looked in gold and red.

“It should,” Tony told him.

While Peter played with that armored glove (which, of course, wasn't armed so there wasn't any danger of any discharge) Tony tried on the rest of the suit, all the while explaining the technology that he was working on with his AI. Peter had heard some of it, before, but it took on a whole new meaning when he was in the workroom, wearing a piece of one of Tony’s suits.

By the time Pepper called Tony to let him know she was ready, the billionaire had snapped a couple of pictures of his son and sent them off to Natasha and the other avengers – along with one JARVIS took of the two of them side by side, both aiming their steel-clad hands at the camera. The replies back were amused, and Peter giggled when Rhodey’s reply was a photo of himself in the War Machine suit, that had Peter and Tony’s picture phot-shopped into it so the three were standing next to each other.

“Let’s go home, son,” Tony said, helping take the glove off Peter’s hand.

He nodded, happily, and skipped beside Tony as they headed back to Pepper’s office where they found her waiting for them.

“Ready to go home?” Peter asked, using Tony’s turn of phrase.

It made her smile.

“I am.”

Tony drove them, while Peter interrogated Pepper about her day from his spot in the back seat. She told him about her meetings, even though she knew that they would be of little interest to a little boy. He surprised her, though, and proved that not only was he listening, but he was following along with what she was telling her, by asking her intelligent questions.

When they arrived at the house, Tony pulled into the garage and parked beside Pepper’s car.

“I want you to do your homework,” Tony told him as they walked into the kitchen, greeted by JARVIS. “Pepper and I are going to make dinner.”

“What are we going to do, tonight?” Peter asked, curiously, eyes excited, as they always were – even if he was just looking forward to watching a movie or playing Legos.

“Why don’t we let Pepper decide?” his father asked. “She’s the guest, right?”

“Okay.” The boy looked at her, expectantly. “What do you want to do, tonight?”

“Let me think about it,” she replied. “We’ll discuss it while we eat.”

“All right.”

Peter ran off to his room, his backpack in his hand, and Pepper turned to Tony.

“What did you learn, today?”

“Justin Hammer is a bigger ass than I thought.”

She smiled.

“I meant at the psychologists.”

What a smart ass.

Tony smiled, too, and kissed her before he moved to open the fridge.

“Peter knows about sex – as we both already know. Dr. Wayne told me there’s no point in keeping our physical relationship a secret.”

“He said that?”

“He didn’t say I’m supposed to ravish you at the dinner table in front of him,” Tony clarified with an amused grin. “But kissing, touching… those are things that Peter will expect from us, and wouldn’t be freaked out if he saw.”

“That’s good to know.”

“I agree.” He pulled hamburger from the fridge, and Pepper pulled out a pan. Dinner was going to be tacos for Peter, taco salad for Pepper, and burritos for Tony. Not as complicated as it seemed, since each of the choices had the same ingredients, just a different presentation. “I’d prefer something relatively quiet, tonight,” he added. “But not a movie.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to put him to bed. If we watch a movie, he’ll probably fall asleep. If we play a game, or something, then when bedtime comes around, I get to read to him, and watch him fall asleep.”

Her expression was warm.

“That’s nice.”

He didn’t even deny it.

“If you let me win whatever game we play, I’ll let you join us.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, amused.

“Chop the vegetables,” she told him, putting the hamburger in the pan to brown.

“Yes, dear.”


	152. 152

They ended up working on a puzzle at the dining room table. An Avenger’s puzzle, with a picture of all of them – including Thor and Hulk. The picture was a good one, with the small group standing heroically in front of the New York cityscape looking confident and intimidating. Peter was good at jigsaw puzzles, Tony already knew. The little boy had done a lot of them in his short life. Mainly because it was something that kept him occupied when May hadn’t wanted him underfoot. Peter hadn’t put it that way, but Tony had no problem figuring it out when the boy had mentioned that he liked them.

He was less and less impressed with Peter’s aunt the more he learned about her, but he hid that from Peter, because she was someone that he had loved, despite the lack of maternal care that she’d given him while he was in her custody. There had been some moments of affection, of course, they just had been fewer and farther between than the boy (or any child) deserved – as far as Tony was concerned.

While they worked on putting the picture together, Peter asked Tony about Thor, an Avenger that he hadn’t really met – and Hulk, who was also someone that the boy knew existed, but hadn’t heard much about. Tony explained to Peter – _and_ to Pepper – that Thor was a helpful fellow to have around, but unlike the actual avengers, they didn’t have a way to call him if they needed him for anything. He came as he wanted, and it wasn't very often.

“Will you introduce me to him, sometime?”

“Of course.”

Peter wriggled in excitement at the thought.

“But probably not the Hulk,” Tony admitted.

The green monster was simply too volatile to trust near his son, despite Peter’s abilities. Banner was off the grid at the moment, anyway, back in India. He kept in touch with Steve, but Tony realized that he hadn’t seen him since before he’d even met Peter – and that had been a while, now. Banner almost certainly knew about Peter, but the man didn’t always trust his alter ego, or the nebulous control that he had over him. Tony made a mental note to send him a message, and maybe a picture of his son, and an invitation to come meet him.

Interspersed between discussion of the other avengers and doing the puzzle, Pepper and Tony talked about their schedule for the next day, which was going to include several meetings that Tony had to attend. He didn’t like meetings, and his newfound domesticity didn’t include a sudden desire to attend them. Pepper rolled her eyes at the way he low-keyed bitched and moaned every time she brought up each individual topic that they were going to be discussing – and Peter giggled every time.

When the puzzle was put together Tony sent Peter to put his pajamas on and brush his teeth.

“I don’t have to go to bed, though, right?”

The billionaire smiled.

“You _do_. It’s bedtime for one little boy. Isn’t it, Pep?”

Pepper nodded.

“It is. Go get your jammies on, honey, and your dad and I will come read you a story.”

Peter looked at the two of them, and he smiled, too.

“ _Eight_ stories.”

Tony snorted.

“Two.”

“Seven.”

“ _Two_ ,” Pepper said, firmly – although her voice was amused, too. “One from each of us. Deal?”

The boy nodded.

“Okay.”

He took off, running to his bedroom, and Tony looked at Pepper.

“That was smooth.”

“I negotiate billion dollar deals,” she reminded him.

“But little boys are a lot trickier. You’re a _natural_.”

He kissed her, then, and it was tender and loving. Pepper made a soft noise, but she was the one who pulled away, first. She smiled, and kissed him, again.

“I’m going to go get changed, too.”

Tony nodded.

“I’ll meet you in his bedroom in ten minutes.”

_“Five.”_

He rolled his eyes.

“Nine.”

“Six.”

He reached out and touched her cheek, ignoring the gaze of all the Avengers in the puzzle watching him.

“I love you.”

Her eyes widened, slightly, surprised at the sudden declaration, and then she smiled.

“I love you, too.”

><><><><><>

It was a great week.

Pepper’s presence in their house was wonderful, as far as Peter was concerned. Rather than take away time from Tony that should be Peter’s, adding her to the household simply made things better. Peter had stayed with Pepper when Tony had left for the Avenger mission, so he already knew that they got along well, and the week was just a reminder of that. She was smart, and fun, and Peter loved her. It was that simple.

They developed an easy routine.

Tony or Pepper would wake Peter in the morning – usually with a hug, or a simple touch that always left the boy smiling to start his day. He would get himself dressed and his hair combed and would come out to the kitchen where he’d find Tony and Pepper sitting at the table, drinking coffee while they talked, or looked at their tablets at the news, or other information.

They’d have breakfast, and Peter was always included in whatever conversation they’d have. Usually it was just going over the schedule for the day so there weren’t any miscommunications. It wasn't that complicated for _Peter_ ; he had school and then would go to the tower, but they made it seem like it was important – which he knew it was to both of them, and not just to Tony.

Phil or Maria would come and pick Peter up and he’d go to school. As always, he checked in with Tony at lunch to see how his dad’s day was going. Sometimes Pepper would be with him, and Peter would have a chance to talk to her, too, but usually she was in a meeting, or something.

Peter would be dropped off at Tony’s office after school and the boy would enjoy his snack while he told his father about his day, and anything interesting that might have happened in the course of it. Or about any homework that he had that he might need help with. If Pepper didn’t have a meeting, she would sometimes join them for the snack, and then Peter would have both of them to talk to before Tony took him to daycare.

After daycare was the drive home, and then Peter would work on his homework while Tony or Pepper – or both – made dinner. It was homey and nice, and it made Peter wriggle in happiness to be a part of it. When they were done eating, they’d clean the kitchen. Sometimes Peter was sent to take a bath, always he was sent to get ready for bed. When he came out, dressed in pajamas, they’d either play games, the piano, or would watch movies.

Peter loved watching movies; he’d be settled between Tony and Pepper on the sofa, with a blanket draped over them and one or the other (and sometimes, both) having an arm around him. He’d cuddle against them and would invariably wake up sometime in the night in his own bed, and knowing that he’d fallen asleep and someone had carried him to bed. He’d sit up, would usually transfer to the top bunk so he could look out the window, and then would spend some time talking to JARVIS before the AI told him to go back to sleep. Which he eventually would do.

Friday morning, however, Pepper announced that her building manager had just sent out an email to the people in her apartment building informing them that the fumigation was complete and once they had the place cleared out and ventilated, the residents could move back in.

She’d smiled at the guys over her coffee mug.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a couple of days, it looks like.”

Tony had shrugged, nonchalantly.

“We like having you.”

Which had made her smile widen. But Peter felt his stomach clench at the news, and he’d looked down at his oatmeal, suddenly not as hungry as he’d been a moment before. He _liked_ having Pepper there, too, and he didn’t want her to leave. He glanced at Tony, wanting him to say so, but knew from the conversation that he’d had with his father that they couldn’t say anything to Pepper.

They were supposed to be showing her without words.

Tony met his gaze, and his eyes softened at the sadness in Peter’s eyes. He gave him a smile and put his hand on the boy’s head, loving him more and more every day. He was such a good-hearted guy.

“Eat, buddy,” he told his son. “We’ll think of something extra special to do this weekend, to show Pepper how much we enjoyed her company. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Peter turned his attention to his meal, but he didn’t eat much, and he hadn’t finished when JARVIS announced that Maria was on her way up the driveway. Tony smiled at Pepper, who had also been watching the boy, as if aware that he was upset, and bent to kiss the top of his head.

“Go get your bag and your coat, big man.”

Peter nodded, and stopped to hug Pepper before he did, as he’d done every day that she’d been staying there. She hugged him, hard, and kissed his cheek.

“When you’re done with school, come by my office,” she told him. “We’ll have treats _there_ , today.”

“Alright.”

He was still holding onto her when the knock sounded on the door, and then it was a scramble to get his bag and his coat and usher him out the door and into Maria Hill’s protection.

“I probably could have done a better job of springing that on him,” Pepper said when Tony returned to the table after the boy was gone. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, sitting down. “There really isn’t a good way to tell him, I’m sure.”

“I’ll still be here a couple of days. The email said each apartment still needs to be aired out – and they’re taking care of all of that before I’m able to go back.”

“Like I said, we’ll find something extra fun to do this weekend, to remind him you’re not vanishing, entirely. And to remind you how much we love your company,” he added.

She smiled.

“I’d like that.”


	153. 153

_“We’re running behind.”_

Tony frowned, looking at Coulson’s image in the display. The SHIELD agent didn’t look too worried, so it wasn't something serious, but with SHIELD’s meticulous planning, any kind of delay was something to wonder about, at least.

“Why?”

_“Peter has to stay a few minutes after class. To talk to his teacher_ ,” the agent added, before Tony could ask.

“Everything alright?”

_“I’ll let him tell you.”_

“I’ll be in Pepper’s office.”

_“We’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”_

Stark got to his feet, glancing out the window of his own office as he did. There were dark clouds on the horizon, easily seen from his amazing vantage. Another snowstorm was expected, but he knew that winter was almost over, so he didn’t care. He was looking forward to it being warm, again, and the days getting longer.

There’d be more daylight and more chances for him and Peter to do things outside without freezing fingers, toes, and noses.

He walked down the hallway and peeked his head into Pepper’s office, making sure he wasn't interrupting a meeting before he knocked on the door and let himself in.

“How’s it going?”

She shrugged.

“I’m glad it’s Friday.”

Tony was, too. They had two days to themselves. Him and Peter and Pepper. No meetings. Natasha had called to let him know that the Avengers were heading down the east coast to run some training drills. They didn’t need him, she assured Stark, but she was going to claim Peter the weekend after this one, so they could spend some time with him.

Which meant that he had the boy to himself, this weekend.

He and Pepper had been debating what they might want to do. Everything from a flight to Europe to spend the weekend at any number of places that Peter would almost certainly find interesting, to another trip to Batman Land, to simply staying at home and relaxing in front of the fire and playing Legos with Peter.

Some of it would depend on the weather, of course. And on what Peter wanted to do.

“Anything that you absolutely have to do?” he asked, solicitously, as he seated himself across from her. “Or anything that you want to do?”

Pepper shook her head.

“I can’t go near my place, so that limits the things that I have to do – and frees me up to do many things that I’d like to do, instead.”

She was the one that had suggested the trip to Batman Land, knowing that Peter was upset that morning and wanting a way to make him smile. The place had been a success, the last time, and she had to admit that she liked the idea of watching Tony being forced to contain his expressions while watching Peter run through the place, enjoying himself.

Stark had vetoed the idea, immediately, saying that he already had one too many Batman t-shirts, and he didn’t want another one.

They sat at her desk, simply enjoying the other’s company and tossing out ideas for activities. Most were ideas that they’d already discussed, so the conversation didn’t really net them any actual results, but the company was good, so it wasn't a complete waste of time. Forty minutes later, JARVIS alerted Tony through his communications watch that Peter and Coulson were on their way up.

Pepper opened her desk drawer, pulling out a package of cookies and a paper plate to arrange a few cookies on for the boy, and Tony got up long enough to grab a carton of chocolate milk from the small fridge by her coffee pot.

He was settling himself back into the chair when the knock on the door heralded the arrival of Coulson and his boy. Peter dropped his backpack on the floor by the door and walked over, giving the SHIELD agent a cursory wave. Coulson smiled, nodded to Stark and Pepper and left, closing the door behind him.

“Hey, buddy,” Tony said, reaching for him and pulling him into a hug. Peter looked a little subdued, and the boy hugged him, hard, back. “How was school?”

“I had to stay late.”

“That’s what Phil said,” Tony replied, leaning back so he could look at him. “How come?”

“I got in trouble…”

Peter moved from Tony over to Pepper, seeking a hug from her, as well – which she was all too willing to give him.

“What kind of trouble?” Tony asked, watching as the little boy climbed into Pepper’s lap without so much as a by your leave, and put his arms around her.

He could hear the sigh, of contentment or of happiness, Tony didn’t know. His tone wasn't happy, though, even with his face pressed against Pepper’s blouse.

“I said a bad word.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“What word?” Pepper asked, curiously, brushing her hand against the back of his head, and running her fingers through his curls.

“The f word.”

“You said the F word?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded, but still didn’t look at either of them.

“I hear the other kids say it all the time. None of _them_ get in trouble.”

“They’re a bit older than you are, buddy,” Tony reminded him.

“I’m smarter than all of them.”

He sounded upset. Upset enough that Stark had a feeling there was more going on than just a word spoken out of the blue. He got up and reached for his son, plucking him from Pepper’s lap and turning him so he could see his face. Sure enough, Peter _looked_ upset, too.

“What happened?” Tony asked, gently.

“Our teacher asked what we would buy if we had a million dollars and one of the kids said if you had a million dollars you could buy anything you want and would always be happy. I told him that it didn’t work like that, and he called me a liar and I told him to fuck off – and got in trouble.”

“Why would you say something like that?” Tony asked, shocked. “You know better than that.”

Like Peter said; he was smarter than any of the other kids in his class.

“It just slipped out.”

“Did you apologize?”

“No. I shouldn’t _have_ to. I’m _right_. That was the other reason I got in trouble.”

“Peter…”

“I _am_ ,” the little boy insisted. “He called me a liar, but I know. We have a lot of money, right?”

Tony couldn’t deny that.

“Yes.”

“Does money make you happy?”

“ _You_ make me happy,” Tony told him. “More than any money ever could.”

“So I’m _right_.”

Tony forced himself not to roll his eyes, because he had a feeling that this was exactly how _he_ sounded, sometimes, when he absolutely knew he was in the right – _and_ he was in the right.

“Yeah. You’re right. But you can’t be rude about it. You’ve been right a lot of times. Why is this one the one that made you swear?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“It just _did_.”

Tony sighed. Obviously it wasn't something Peter wanted to talk about, just then. And he wasn't going to press. That was the whole point of having a psychologist, after all.

“Fine. What did the teacher say?”

“He said I have to write an essay and _prove_ myself right – and said not to swear in class anymore.”

“He’s right about not swearing. I don’t want to hear that it happened, again. Understand?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

“You can work on the essay instead of going to daycare.”

The boy frowned.

“How come?”

“Because the essay is a punishment, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then doing it instead of playing with your friends in daycare will be my way of punishing you, too.”

“Why do _you_ have to punish me, too?”

Tony ignored Pepper’s soft snort of amusement that she just couldn’t hide.

“Because that’s what dads do, Peter. You tell a classmate to fuck off, and I have to punish you, right?”

He didn’t look convinced.

“I guess.”

“Good. Take your stuff to my office, okay? And get started. I’ll meet you there.”

“I don’t get cookies, first?” the boy asked, glancing at the plate of treats that Pepper had put out.

Stark wasn't a monster – and it was only one F-word, after all.

“Yeah, buddy. You can have your cookies, first. And you can tell us how the rest of your day went.”


	154. 154

Peter didn’t linger over his treat.

He ate several cookies, and drank his chocolate milk as he told them about the rest of his day. At least, he told them what the teachers had taught, and what he’d done for his classes. He didn’t tell them how miserable he’d been, all day, at the thought of Pepper leaving to go back to her apartment in the next couple of days – or however long it was going to be. The worst part was that he couldn’t _say_ anything because Tony had told him that they couldn’t make Pepper want to stay only because they wanted her to be there.

But he _really_ wanted her to be there.

He liked having her at the house. Loved having her to cuddle with, and enjoyed the looks that she’d give him, sometimes. Looks that were just for him and so filled with love that even _he_ could recognize it – and he didn’t know a lot about motherly affections. It wasn't something that May had done very well, after all, and not something he remembered too much from his mother. But now she was going back to her apartment, and Peter didn’t know how to get her to stay without asking her. He’d been simmering in that frustration and sadness all day, and then the question had been posed, and stupid William _I’m too dumb to even figure out how to breathe_ Anderson had spouted off that money could buy happiness, but Peter knew that it couldn’t.

And he’d said so and had then been shocked at himself when he’d told him off.

Not as shocked as his classmates had been, of course – although many of them had laughed and cheered Peter, even though he wasn't sure why. His _teacher_ definitely hadn’t been amused, had he?

When the last cookie was gone, Peter left Pepper’s office and headed for Tony’s, stopping only long enough to pick up his backpack. Tony didn’t follow him, but he didn’t need to. His office wasn't too far from Pepper’s, and the tower was safe for Peter to be in the hallways alone. Not only was SHIELD a constant presence in the place, but JARVIS was, as well, and he saw everything that was going on. If anyone even got close to Peter, JARVIS would know who they were, instantly, and calculate the threat posed by the proximity.

The boy settled himself at his desk, pulling out his notebook. Not the electronic one; he pulled out a simple paper one, and a pen. Then he put his cheek down on the desk and started writing.

Twenty minutes later his father walked into the office and moved to Peter’s desk rather than his own.

“How’s it going?”

“Okay.”

“You need any help?”

Peter raised his head so he could shake it.

“I’m okay.”

Tony nodded.

“Can I read what you have, so far?”

“Yeah.”

The boy handed the notebook over, and watched as the man tried to read his handwriting. There wasn't much to read, yet, he knew, but Tony sighed, and seated himself on Peter’s desk.

_“Money can’t make people do what you want them to do,”_ he read. _“And that means that if you want someone to live with you, and they don’t want to, money won’t make it happen – even if you have a million dollars…”_ He looked up from the paper and back to Peter. “Is that what this is about?”

“What?”

“Pepper leaving.”

“I don’t want her to go back to her apartment,” Peter said, and felt his eyes sting. “I want her to stay with us.”

Tony set the notebook down and reached for his son, picking him up and then carrying him over to the couch before sitting down and cuddling Peter in his lap.

“I do, too, buddy.”

Peter rested his cheek on Tony’s shoulder.

“You could just _ask_ her if she wants to stay.”

“You know I would if I could do that.” He brushed his fingers through the boy’s hair, smiling, tenderly. “It was fun having her, wasn't it?”

“Yeah.”

They were silent for a long moment, simply loving each other, but then Tony tousled his hair.

“We’re not done, yet, though. She isn’t leaving until early next week, most likely, so we have all weekend. Right?”

“That’s true.”

“We’ll think of something fun to do – or maybe we’ll just stay home and have a relaxing weekend. Alright?”

“Okay.”

He squeezed him, hard, for a moment, and then tumbled him off of his lap onto the sofa beside him, smiling when the action made Peter giggle.

“Finish your paper, son,” he said, getting to his feet. “I have a few things to work on before we go home.”

The boy nodded and went back to his desk.

“Alright.”

The mood was more light-hearted when they returned to their respective projects, and Peter felt better than he had all day.

><><><><><

The expected snow began to fall as they drove home.

“So much for going to the _beach_ ,” Tony said from the driver’s seat, looking at the snow in the gathering darkness.

“I didn’t bring my bathing suit, anyway,” Pepper assured him with a smile.

“Do you know how to swim?” Peter asked from the back seat.

“Of course. I learned when I was younger than you are.”

“Oh.”

“Can you?” she asked.

Tony already knew the answer.

“No.”

“He’s going to learn before we fill up the swimming pool,” Stark said. “It was one of the ground rules that we set when we decided on the house with the pool. Right, son?”

Peter nodded.

“I’m going to have swimming lessons. Maybe even at the Y. That’s where Ned said that he learned how – and Kyle is a lifeguard there, part time.”

Pepper smiled at that.

“Then that sounds like a good place to learn.”

“Yeah.” Peter turned his head to look out the window and watch the snow fall. “It’s pretty.”

“Pretty _cold_ ,” Tony said.

“Can we go for a walk when we get home?” Peter asked, suddenly.

“It’ll be dark,” his father replied. “We’ll have dinner and find something to do inside – preferably something warm and dry. If you want to walk tomorrow, maybe we’ll see if Pepper wants to go to the park.”

The boy looked interested.

“Do you, Pepper?” he asked, excitedly.

Of course, she already knew that a trip to the park didn’t just mean walking on the pathways or trails. It also meant a hotdog at one of the vendors, and maybe a pretzel, or even a slice of pizza. Maybe _all_ of them. And there were a lot of small shops along the edge of the park that had all sorts of interesting things for sale.

Including one that specialized in Legos.

“I think it sounds like fun,” she agreed. “But not too early. I’m going to sleep in, tomorrow, if I can.”

“Long week?”

“There were a lot of meetings, yes. It’ll be nice to sit and relax with you guys.”

“We always enjoy time with you,” Tony assured her, catching Peter’s eye in the rearview mirror and winking at him.

The boy smiled at that, understanding that that was one of those ways of telling her without really telling her.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Pepper smiled, resting her hand lightly on Tony’s leg.

“Thank you.”

The rest of the drive was made in silence, but it was comfortable, and Peter leaned back in the leather seat, watching the snow fall and already looking forward to walking in it the next day.

And maybe talking Tony and Pepper letting him look through the Lego store, of course.

><><><><><>

Peter didn’t have any homework, and he’d finished his essay in Tony’s office. It wasn’t long; there wasn't a lot for him to say, he’d pointed out when Tony had read it through before they’d walked to Pepper’s office to get her to go home. Luckily, Tony had agreed, and since the teacher who had assigned it hadn’t told him to format it, the boy kept it as it was, written on notebook paper. He set it on his desk with his other school stuff, and amused himself playing with his Legos at the corner table in his room while he gave Tony and Pepper a chance to relax by themselves before dinner.

That had been a suggestion that JARVIS had made several days before.

It was an opportunity for the two adults to unwind, and even though the AI assured Peter that they liked having him around (which he knew, already and didn’t need reassurance about) JARVIS had pointed out that adults in a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship liked to have some time alone, as well. The AI reminded Peter that neither of them were that accustomed to having a young child around, and might be uncomfortable showing the other physical affection if he was in the room with them, constantly.

Peter had agreed, and he didn’t mind. His room was filled with things that could keep him occupied, and he could (and _had_ when he lived with May) play hot wheels and Legos alone for hours at a time. He had the Lego avengers chasing his Lego Batman and Robin through Hogwarts until JARVIS advised the boy that Tony was preparing dinner.

The boy put his Lego avengers back into their special case, and then went out to the kitchen to offer his assistance, only to find that dinner was already in the oven and baking.

Tony scooped him up into his arms, playfully, and turned Peter upside down as he carried him back to the living room. Just as he was tossing him onto the couch, Pepper’s guest room door opened, and she emerged wearing simple lounge pants and a t-shirt. Stark rolled his eyes, noticing immediately that she was wearing the Batman t-shirt that Peter had bought her at batman Land.

Pepper caught the gesture and smirked, even as she picked Peter up, purportedly to move him so she could sit down, too, but mainly because she was in the mood to cuddle with him. It never failed to make her feel warm and gooey inside when the boy settled easily into her lap and rested his cheek on her shoulder, or against her collarbone and put his arms around her. She smiled up at Tony as Peter settled in with a comfortable sigh, and the billionaire leaned over and pressed a kiss against his son’s cheek.

“Don’t get too comfortable, mister,” he murmured. “You’re setting the table.”

The boy giggled.

“I won’t.”

He _was_ , though, and it showed.


	155. 155

When dinner was ready, he gave up his spot almost reluctantly, but smiled when Pepper kissed his cheek, soundly, and thanked him for keeping her company. _She_ was glad to see that he didn’t look as troubled as he’d looked that morning, or in her office after school. While they ate dinner, they discussed what they might do that evening, as well as that weekend.

The walk in the park – and on the fringe of it in order to go to the many stores that Peter so enjoyed walking through – would take up their afternoon, but since it grew dark so early, they wouldn’t spend the entire day outside. Pepper offered to take them out to eat, the next evening when they were done walking – to thank them for letting her stay with them and being such good hosts.

Tony smiled when Peter immediately mentioned McDonald’s, and watched as the two began to bargain over what restaurant they’d go to. In the end, instead of going to a swanky French place that Pepper had had in mind, they ended up settling on a new Chinese restaurant that Pepper had tried once, but Tony had avoided because Peter wasn’t a fan of Chinese food and it tended to be somewhat messy. The boy had agreed when Pepper had assured him that the place had traditional American fare on their menus, as well, and he wouldn’t be stuck eating raw fish wrapped around rice.

Peter was cheerful when dinner was over, and he offered to help Pepper do the dishes, since Tony had cooked for them. While they were cleaning up, Pepper asked Peter if he and Tony ever _made_ cookies, or if they only bought them. Stark had wandered into the kitchen, and now _he_ was dressed in casual clothes, as well, and he leaned against the island while the boy pointed out that it was a lot easier to buy cookies than to make them.

“It isn’t that hard,” she assured him. “All you need are a few simple ingredients and a couple of cookie sheets.”

“May sometimes got the stuff that you cut up and baked,” Peter said, looking interested. “When she was in a good mood. _Sometimes_.”

The way he said it made the two adults think that it almost certainly wasn’t that often.

“Those are good,” Pepper agreed. “But nothing is better than a homemade cookie, right off the cookie sheet and a glass of milk.”

“Can we make cookies?” Peter asked, looking at Tony, excitedly.

The billionaire tossed Pepper a look that was a mixture of amused and chagrined, but he nodded.

“We _can_. What kind?”

“Oreos.”

Now it was Pepper’s turn to roll her eyes.

“It doesn’t work that way,” she pointed out.

“Why not? Two chocolate cookies and the stuff in the middle.”

“Do you know what they make that out of?” Pepper asked.

“White stuff.”

“JARVIS? Can we make Oreos?” Tony asked, already aware of the answer.

_“No. The pantry is missing several ingredients that would be needed for something so complex, and the white stuff – as Peter called it – has several more components that would take most of the evening to reverse engineer as there isn’t a recipe for it where I can find it.”_

“We could make cookies and then take the white stuff from the middle of all the Oreos that we already have…” Peter suggested, reasonably. “Then put it in the middle of our cookies.”

“Why don’t we just make _chocolate chip_?” Pepper said, smiling at the expression on Tony’s face. Cannibalizing the Oreos that they already had simply to make new ones from scratch was something that only an eight-year-old would think up. “It’ll be a little less convoluted. You guys have chocolate chips, right?”

“Oh, we have chocolate chips,” Tony replied. It was one of Peter’s favorite things, after all. “You’re good with chocolate chip cookies, right?”

Peter smiled, too.

“Yeah.”

><><><><><><

“That worked out well.”

Pepper had to nod her agreement, looking over at Peter who was seated on the floor in front of the stove, watching the cookies that they’d just placed inside the oven baked.

“ _And_ we didn’t catch the kitchen on fire,” she added. “That puts us one step ahead of Nick.”

Tony smiled.

“Good point.” He smiled at just how engrossed Peter was in something as dull as watching cookies bake. Of course, he’d thoroughly enjoyed helping Pepper add all the ingredients together to make the cookie dough, and had even managed to scoop the cookies onto the sheet into fairly even rows. “Son? Go get ready for bed.”

“What about the cookies?” Peter asked. “Pepper said we need to watch them.”

“We’ll watch them until you get back.”

“I don’t have to go to _bed_ , though, right? It’s not a school night.”

“Nope. You can stay up as late as you want.”

The plan, though, was to allow him a couple of cookies fresh out of the oven and a glass of milk, and then settle him in for a movie. Even if he stayed awake for the movie – and the sugar in the cookies might make that happen – Tony knew the little boy would be ready to settle in his bed when it was over.

“Okay.”

The boy got up and hurried to his room, eager to get changed before the first batch of cookies came out of the oven. Pepper scooped a small amount of cookie dough from the bowl and ate it, amused when Tony sighed and settled himself on the floor in the spot Peter had vacated.

“What are you doing?”

“Watching the cookies.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling.

“Are you going to be able to get off the floor, now that you’re down there?”

“I’m not _that_ far gone, yet,” he assured her. “Besides, if nothing else, I’ll have Peter give me a hand.”

“Is he alright?”

She – of course – hadn’t missed the moodiness from earlier, when the boy was in her office, but hadn’t had a chance to ask Tony, earlier, when they were relaxing before dinner, since she hadn’t been sure if Peter was going to come out and join them.

“He’s fine, Pep.” The billionaire smiled up at her. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but he’s going to miss having you here.”

Which made her expression soften – something that melted Tony’s heart every time he saw it.

“You guys aren’t tired of me?”

“Not yet.”

“That’s sweet.”

“He isn’t supposed to tell you, though,” Tony said. “So as to not put any undue pressure on you. _I’m_ not supposed to say anything, either, but it’s something that you need to know – if for no other reason than so that you understand if he becomes grumpy.”

Awwww.

She started to say something, but they heard Peter’s door open with a bang and the boy came running into the kitchen, now dressed in his Ironman pajamas. His eyes lit up when he saw Tony on the floor and he rushed over, jumping onto his back and hanging over his shoulder to look into the lit up oven.

“Are they done, yet?”

“Nope,” Tony replied, reaching up and grabbing the boy and pulling him over into his lap. “The timer hasn’t gone off. They smell good, though, don’t they?”

“Yeah.”

Before they could say anything else, the timer for the oven dinged, and Peter gasped, excitedly, and rolled out of Tony’s lap, looking at the two, expectantly.

“Hold on,” Pepper cautioned. “We have to give them a couple of minutes to settle before you can have any. The chocolate in the chips will be really hot and can burn your lip.”

“Is that the voice of experience speaking, Pep?” Tony asked getting himself to his feet, as well.

She nodded, reaching for a potholder.

“Of course.”

><><><><><>

The cookies were a success – which was no surprise to either adult. Peter had already proven that he loved all things chocolate chip, after all, and a couple of fresh from the oven cookies with a glass of cold milk never failed. When they had all sampled the cookies from the first batch, and had pulled the second and third batches out of the oven, Tony sent Peter in to brush his teeth and Pepper to the living room while he cleaned up what little mess they’d made and put the leftover cookies into the never before used cookie jar that sat on the counter as a decoration, but now actually had a purpose.

Pepper went to brush her teeth, as well, and joined Peter and Tony just as they were all converging in front of the fireplace and the TV above it to settle on the sofa.

“It’s still snowing,” Peter reported, watching as Pepper and Tony sat down.

“Is it supposed to accumulate?” Pepper asked.

“JARVIS?”

“The forecast says several inches, depending on the location in the city,” the AI replied, as Tony patted his lap in invitation, and Peter happily climbed into it.

“We might not go out, tomorrow,” Tony warned the boy, putting an arm around him while reaching for the blanket that they kept over the back of the couch. He draped it over himself, and Peter, and then used his free hand to pull Pepper to his side so he could put his arm around her and made sure she was warmly covered, also. “Traffic might get messy if the roads get slick.”

“It’s okay,” Peter assured him. “I don’t mind.”

“We’ll find something to do,” Tony told them both.

“We could sit around and eat cookies and hot chocolate,” Peter suggested, making the adults smile.

“We’ll aim a little higher than that.” Tony ran his fingers through Peter’s hair. “JARVIS? Start the movie, please.”

The lights went out, although the fireplace stayed lit, and the movie they’d agreed on at dinner started without any of them using the remote. Peter sighed, contentedly, when the Disney movie started, and he rested his cheek against Tony’s chest. It was a position that allowed him to be held, but also let him watch the movie, and occasionally glance at Pepper, who was close enough that he could reach out and touch her if he wanted.

He didn’t, becoming engrossed in the adventures of the people on the display, but he could have, and it made him feel good. He already felt loved, of course, and he wondered if Pepper felt that love, too. Like being a family. Peter watched the movie, but part of his agile young mind started thinking about other ways that he could show her how much he liked her without saying it.

Maybe he’d ask JARVIS for some suggestions.

After the movie was over and he was tucked into bed, and had negotiated how many stories he’d have read to him – and who would do the reading.

Instead, though, surprising Tony, the boy fell asleep before the movie was over, lulled by the warmth, and the hypnotic flames in the fireplace, and the heartbeat that he could hear against his ear.


	156. 156

A soft knock on the guest room door woke Pepper. She frowned, sleepily, and rolled over, looking at her watch, which was on the stand next to the bed. It was five am. Awake, now, and worried that something was wrong, she sat up.

“Yes?”

The door opened and Peter poked his head in, looking so much like Tony when he did that at her office that she had to smile, despite her concern and the early hour.

“Are you awake?” Peter asked.

“Yes. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

She patted the spot on the bed beside her, but he surprised her by vanishing for a moment. When he returned, he was carrying a tray in his little hands. The boy carried it over to her bed and set it down, looking excited – although maybe a little uncertain, too.

“Look.”

“What’s _this_?” she asked.

The tray had a cup of coffee on it. There was also a bowl of soggy-looking fruit loops, a fruit roll-up, and a saucer that held eight slices of toast – all with the Batman logo burned into it.

“I made you breakfast,” he told her. “ _In bed_.”

Pepper smiled.

“That’s very nice of you. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Now he climbed onto the bed, and she held the tray steady to keep it from upsetting the coffee or the cereal.

“Where’s your father?”

Surely Tony had something to do with this? Although she was just as certain that if Peter had had help making her meal, there wouldn’t be so much toast – and maybe the cereal would be dry with milk on the side to avoid allowing it to get soggy.

“He’s sleeping, still. I made the toast, and poured the cereal, but the coffee pot turns on by itself.”

Technically, _JARVIS_ turned it on, but it was the same thing. She knew he was just assuring her that he hadn’t actually cooked anything.

“It looks amazing. Thank you.”

He hugged himself, and Pepper leaned over and hugged him, too.

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you want a slice of toast?”

“I had some, already. You can eat it all.”

Uh huh.

She reached for a slice, and nibbled on the corner.

“This is very nice of you.”

“I _know_. Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

His smile was pleased.

“When I was really little, my dad and I made my mom breakfast in bed, once.”

“You did?”

“I don’t remember it, much,” he admitted. “Only that she was happy.”

“Was it for Mother’s Day?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I bet she loved it.”

‘Yeah.”

“Is it still snowing?” she asked, wanting to change the subject in case it was something that might upset him – even though he looked pleased, more than anything else.

Peter’s memories of his parents were obviously very good ones.

“Yeah. It was earlier, anyway. I didn’t check since I started making breakfast.” He settled in, sitting cross-legged beside her so he could watch her eat. “It’ll probably be too snowy to go to the park.”

Or to the Lego store, but he didn’t add that.

“We could see if your dad wants to build a snowman, later.”

“You’d do that?” he asked, surprised.

“I’d love to. As long as it’s with _you_.”

His eyes lit up at the words, and then filled with tears. Pepper made a soft noise and set the tray on the stand next to the bed and pulled him onto her lap so she could hold him.

‘I’m okay,” he told her, quickly, sniffing in her ear when his cheek came to rest on her shoulder, and she could feel her Batman t-shirt getting a little soggy in that area. “I’m sorry.”

“Are those happy tears?” she asked.

She had to know.

“Yes.”

Another sniff, and Pepper turned her head and kissed his ear.

“You’re such a fun guy,” she murmured to him, rubbing his back, lightly. “You _know_ that, right?”

“Yeah.”

Pepper smiled, amused – and touched that she could make anyone so happy that they cried.

“Why don’t you hang out with me?” she asked, bringing the blankets up and over the two of them, and thinking that as early as it was, he might be able to go back to sleep for a while. “We’ll try to avoid waking your dad for a little while, still.”

“Okay.”

There was an occasional sniff, but Peter was mostly quiet as Pepper held him. Sure enough, he fell asleep in her arms, and when she tucked him into the space beside her in the bed rather than in her lap, he never stirred – except to nestle a little closer when she turned the light off and lay back down. Pepper looked at the enormous stack of toast on the tray and wondered if there was going to be any bread left for sandwiches, later, or if they were going to have to make a trek to the store, despite the snowy weather.

Then, still smiling and feeling warm and gooey, she went back to sleep, as well.

><><><><><

“Aren't you cold?”

Peter smiled up at his dad, his eyes bright with cheerfulness and his hands filled with a large snowball that he was forming into a head for yet another miniature snowman. He had a small army of them surrounding the side of the swimming pool – and under the new fallen snow, Tony could almost make out the forms of the previous army that he’d built weeks before.

“A little.”

It was still snowing, but the accumulation wasn’t supposed to be epic, or anything, according to JARVIS’ latest report. Just enough to keep them home, but not enough for them to worry about being snowed in.

Tony had woken that morning and after the obligatory morning pee, he’d gone to check on Peter while telling JARVIS to start the coffee as he walked out of his bedroom. The smell of coffee already in the air didn’t even compute with his still sleepy mind. He peeked into Peter’s room, quietly, and was surprised – and momentarily worried – to find that both beds were empty.

A quick query to JARVIS had him leaving Peter’s room and silently peeking into the open door of the guestroom. The gentle glow of the light from the stand next to the bed showed him that Pepper was awake and sitting up in her bed, with a soundly sleeping Peter curled up beside her. She smiled a greeting when he walked over, but pressed a finger to her lips to make sure he understood she didn’t want him to wake the boy.

Tony noticed the tray as he leaned over to kiss her, lightly.

“Did you guys have an early breakfast without me?” he whispered.

Pepper put the tablet aside that she’d been looking at.

“He brought me breakfast in bed.”

“That’s a _lot_ of toast.”

She nodded.

She’d finished the coffee once she’d woken, again, but it had been lukewarm, at best, and the toast had been cold. A fruit rollup was hardly something to eat at breakfast, but she wouldn’t have told Peter that for anything.

“And the cereal was soggy. Would you clear the evidence before he wakes up, please? This was definitely one of those ‘it’s the thought that counts’ situations.”

“Can I come back and join you?”

“Yes.”

He picked up the tray and left, only to return a few minutes later carrying a fresh cup of coffee – it wasn't freshly brewed but was still better than nothing – which he handed to her as he slid under the covers beside her, leaving Peter to sleep on the other side so he wouldn’t be woken.

“What time did he come in?”

“Five.”

“Wow. It’s still snowing.”

“It was when he came in with my breakfast, too,” she’d told him. “He’s fine with hanging out here, today, if the roads are bad, or if it’s too cold.”

“That’s thoughtful.”

“Yes.”

Tony had scooted closer, pressing right up against her so he could kiss her.

“You’re so sexy…” he’d whispered. “You know that, right?”

The compliment made her smile, but she couldn’t help that she ran her fingers through her somewhat tangled hair.

“Me and my sexy bed-head.”

“It _is_ sexy,” he assured her. He’d kissed her again. “You’re even sexier with him nestled against you. Is that weird?”

“You’d have to ask your shrink,” she’d replied, smiling. She understood exactly what he’d meant, though. Peter was a little guy and she knew that little kids brought out maternal (and paternal) instincts that she and Tony had neither ever needed to contemplate, before. It was almost certainly biological and, as such, not something to be too concerned about. “He’d probably be able to explain that…”

“ _Psychologist_ ,” Tony had corrected, tapping her nose, playfully, and then settling beside her, putting his chin on her shoulder so he could be close, but she’d have her hands free if she wanted to continue reading. “Make sure you get that right.”

“Sorry.” She’d kissed him, and then reached over him for the tablet. “I promised him I’d build a snowman with him, today.”

“Sounds like fun.”


	157. 157

They hadn’t gone back to sleep; instead simply enjoying the quiet time together while the little boy dozed beside her. When Peter had finally woken, they’d spent a bit more time in bed to allow him the chance to wallow in the experience of having that same quiet, together, time, and then Tony had sent him off to get dressed, while he’d told Pepper that he’d go start them some breakfast – something a bit more substantial than toast and cereal.

By the time breakfast was finished, Peter was ready to go outside and play, and Pepper had bundled up and gone with him into the backyard, leaving Tony to do the dishes before coming out to join them. The snow wasn't wet enough to hold together to create a single large snowman, so Pepper and Peter had decided that they’d make a small army of Avenger snowmen. One was bigger than the others – this one was hulk – and one held a little snow hammer, but aside from that, it was pretty difficult to see who was whom, when Tony walked out, bundled in heavy coat, boots and gloves.

He sent Pepper in to warm up while he and Peter created more snowmen – this time an army of generic bad guys for the Avenger snowmen to do epic battle with, eventually. Pepper returned after half an hour and tag-teamed with Tony, who went inside long enough to start dinner (a ham that he was going to cook in the crockpot, so he wanted to get it going).

Tony came back out, and Pepper said that she’d start lunch, if they were getting hungry, but Peter had simply continued his building, not yet ready to go inside. A little gentle cajoling, and the boy had gone in, shedding his coat and gloves long enough to wolf down a bowl of chili and crackers before he’d begged to go back outside and play. _They_ didn’t need to go out, too, he’d assured them. Peter was good at playing alone; he’d done a lot of it when living with May.

Tony had relented, immediately, but made him switch to a dry pair of mittens to keep his little fingers from getting too cold and had reminded him to keep his hood up and his stocking cap on to keep is ears warm. The two adults took turns being outside with him, unwilling to let him play alone. It was well into the afternoon when Tony finally decided that there was probably such a thing as _too_ much fresh air, and he’d gone to send Pepper inside to warm up, again, and collect his boy.

“You should probably call it a day,” Stark said, amazed by the number of little snowmen that had been created. The entire pool deck was filled with them. “I don’t want you to catch cold.”

Peter didn’t argue. He was ready to go in and warm up.

“Okay.”

They walked back into the back door, and Pepper was waiting to collect his coat, hat, and mittens. The boy’s sweatshirt was damp with melted snow, and his jeans were wet.

“Go take a bath, buddy,” Tony suggested. “That’ll warm you up. Dinner will be in about an hour.”

Peter nodded and headed for his room, and Pepper and Tony went to sit on the sofa.

“You’re so sexy when you’re doing the dad thing,” Pepper told him, tucking her leg under her so she could turn toward him on the couch. “You know that, right?”

“I’m sexy when I’m doing _anything_ ,” he assured her with a smile.

_That_ made her smile, too, where a year ago – or even six months ago – she’d have rolled her eyes, more annoyed than amused. Of course, back then he would have been completely serious. She looked at him, her expression serious enough that he braced himself, wondering if he’d pressed his luck and been too much of a smartass in his response.

“What would you say if I mentioned that I like living here…?” she asked him.

He forced down the urge to jump to his feet and do a little jig of pure happiness.

“Do you?”

Pepper nodded.

“I do.”

“Because of _Peter_?” he asked, seriously. “It’s not just him, Pep. We’re a set. He loves you, but he can love you no matter where you live. You know that, right?”

Her expression told him that she understood what he was asking, and she smiled, reaching for his hand.

“I do love him, of course. But I love you, too, Tony. I know it hasn’t been that long, but if living together is a step that you’re interested in trying-“

“You know it is,” he interrupted. They’d known each other for years. He didn’t need any more get to know you time before making the next step. “I just need you to know what you’re agreeing to…”

“I know.”

“Then we should make a go of it,” he told her. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s a good idea.”

“In _my_ bedroom, though,” he added. “Not as a guest.”

Her expression changed, subtly, and they both leaned in toward each other.

“No. Not as a guest. I want more than that.”

His lips brushed against hers, and Pepper closed her eyes, moving that final distance so she could claim his in a kiss, claiming what was hers, now, and would be as long as she wanted. It was a heady feeling, really, and despite how certain she was about it all, it _was_ an enormous step. Tony made a soft noise as he deepened the kiss, and they both heard a soft gasp coming from the direction of Peter’s bedroom.

They separated, leaning apart and looking over the back of the sofa. The boy was standing just outside of his doorway, naked except for a pair of Batman underoos. He was watching them with eyes wide and surprise on his little face.

“Sorry…” he said, realizing that he’d interrupted them. “I was just going to get a glass of water…”

Tony rolled his eyes, feeling giddy with happiness.

“Why does _that_ suddenly sound familiar?” he asked, winking at Pepper and then getting to his feet. “I’ll get it for you.”

“I can,” Peter assured him.

“I don’t want you walking around the house if your feet are wet.” Tony went to the kitchen, while Peter walked over to the back of the couch and heaved himself up so he was on level with Pepper. “Besides, Pepper doesn’t have any one-dollar bills, right now.”

Pepper snorted, amused. Both because of the reference to Peter’s state of undress, and the confusion in the boy’s expressive eyes. Peter shrugged, looking at her.

“I have some,” he said. “If you want one.”

She laughed, feeling a little giddy, too, and pulled him over the back of the couch and into an embrace. His little body was still damp, and his skin was cold, proving that he hadn’t started the process of taking a bath to warm up.

“Thank you, honey,” she said. “I’m good, though.”

“Okay.”

Tony returned to the living room, and now he was holding a plastic glass of water, which he handed to his son.

“Are you trying to seduce my girl?” he asked the boy, resuming the place he’d vacated – only making space for Peter between them.

Peter grinned.

“Yeah.”

“Do you know what seduce means?” Pepper asked, surprised.

He was smart, but his vocabulary was geared toward tech and science and math, and she knew it.

“No.”

“It means that you need to drink your water and then go take a bath before you catch a chill and a cold,” Tony told him. “Then get changed into something warm to make sure you _stay_ that way.”

Peter drank the water, thirstily, and handed the glass back to Tony.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The billionaire tousled his son’s hair. “Go get warmed up.”

“Okay.”

The boy got up and tumbled himself over the back of the sofa and went into his room, and Tony turned back to Pepper, who raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t tell him?”

“We will, later,” he assured her. “But if I did it, now, he’d be distracted. Plenty of time for that, later.”

“That makes sense.” She smiled, leaning forward to kiss him, but pulling back before they could allow anything to get too hot and heavy. “We have a lot to discuss, though,” Pepper told him.

“True.”


	158. 158

Dinner was good.

It was ham, scalloped potatoes, and steamed broccoli. Pepper was past being amazed at the fact that Tony could (and _did_ ) produce healthy meals made from scratch – something that would have been unheard of a year ago. The discussion at the dinner table was the snowman army that had been created, and the fact that it had stopped snowing while Peter was in the bathtub. The snowman army wasn't something that Peter would actually play with. The battles between the snow avengers and the unnamed bad guys would only take place in his mind, but his mind was capable of amazing detail, and there was no doubt in either adult’s mind that the battle would be exciting and that the good guys would prevail.

Peter was cheerful – he usually was, of course – but _Tony_ was in a particularly good mood, too. There were a lot of smiles, and Pepper wasn’t immune to any of it. Dinner was interrupted when Ned called Peter, apologized for calling while they were eating, but was excited to show off the new puppy that Eric and Nancy had presented him with that very evening. A yellow puppy with huge feet that spoke of a lot of size yet to come.

“What are you naming him?” Peter asked, excited for his friend.

_“Her,”_ Ned corrected. _“It’s a girl puppy.”_

“What are you going to name _her_?” Peter asked.

“ _Natasha_.”

Tony snorted, but he smiled when both boys looked his direction.

“That is an excellent name,” he told Ned. “We’ll have to come meet her in person. Maybe next weekend, or something.”

_“Yeah.”_

_“We’ll set something up,”_ Eric said from behind Ned _. “Say goodnight, son,”_ he told Ned. _“Let them get back to their dinner.”_

_“Night, Peter. Night, Tony. Night, Pepper.”_

“Goodnight, Ned. Night, Eric.”

The display went blank, and Tony looked at his son when the boy picked up his fork.

“She’s cute.”

Peter smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Sure you don’t want a puppy?”

The boy shook his head.

“Yeah. I don’t want one.”

Puppies were cute, but Peter didn’t want one.

They needed a lot of attention, and he was in no hurry to give up being the center of Tony’s attention, just then. He was willing to share with _Pepper_ , but no one else. Not even a puppy. The little boy didn’t _exactly_ think about it that way, but it was important to him. There were the avengers, yes, but that was only part time. He knew that Pepper was Tony’s girlfriend and needed a lot of Tony’s time, but he was willing to share with her. Not only did he love Pepper, but she was also a source of attention for _him_. And love. Pepper wasn't a challenger for Tony’s attentions, and Peter instinctively understood that.

The rest of the meal, though, was spent talking about Ned’s puppy, and what Natasha was going to say when she found out that Peter’s friend had named the little girl after the spy. And what _they_ would name a puppy, if they were to get one. And what kind.

“Batman,” Peter said, with certainty, as they started clearing plates and Tony brought out some cookies from the night before to have for dessert. “And he should be big, like Natasha will be – but black. Because it’s _batman_ …”

“Of course…”

Pepper smiled at Tony’s lack of enthusiasm at the idea, and the skill that he used to manage to hide it from his son. Moving the conversation from the puppy idea, she pointed out that if the weather were cleared the next day, she’d be interested in walking in the park – if they were. Not surprisingly, Peter was all for the idea. Tony smiled, though, and glanced at Pepper before looking at Peter.

“Let’s go into the living room, son. I want to discuss something with you. Something _important_.”

“Okay.”

Peter shoved the rest of his cookie into his mouth – it wasn't enough that it made either adult look worried – and then picked another one off the plate before he got down from his chair and went into the living room, following Tony who sat down on the couch, and Pepper, who sat down next to _him_. It was a measure of just how comfortable Peter was that he didn’t ask if he’d done something wrong, since both adults looked a little nervous, suddenly.

Stark gestured for Peter to sit on the coffee table so he could see him, and waited until he complied before speaking.

“Pepper and I have been talking.”

“About what?”

“Well… She was thinking that she might want to move in with us. _Permanently_.”

The little boy’s jaw dropped.

“You’re getting _married_?”

Pepper smiled. “No, honey. Maybe _someday_ , but that’s a bigger step than either of us are ready for, yet. But I have enjoyed being here, with you guys, this week – and I love your dad, and I love _you_ , and we were talking about how it might be a good thing if I lived here. What do you think?”

“Forever?”

“Maybe?” Tony said, making it into a question. “It would depend on how things go, of course. If we’re all compatible as a family, then, yes. For a long time, anyway.”

“Wow.”

“We wanted to know what you think of the idea, though,” Pepper said. “You get a say in this. It’s a big step for you, too, you know?”

“Why?”

“Because it’s going to be different than just living with me,” Tony told him.

“Pepper’s been here a week, though,” Peter pointed out. “Nothing bad happened. We just keep following the same rules.”

“There’ll be a slightly different dynamic, though, with her staying with us, permanently,” his father said. “So some of the rules will be a little different.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one thing, Pepper won’t be in the guestroom.”

“Why not?”

There was just the slightest of hesitations. Not because he didn’t want to answer, but because he almost instinctively knew that as curious as Peter was, the upcoming discussion was going to be far more involved than he wanted it to be. But it definitely needed to be addressed.

“Because she’s going to be staying in my room. With me.”

The boy looked at him, and then at Pepper, uncertainly, and Tony could practically hear the wheels turning as his mind figured out what that meant. Sure enough, his eyes widened as he looked back to Tony.

“Because you’re going to be doing it?”

Not surprisingly, _Tony’s_ expression wasn't the only one that was pained, although Pepper made a soft noise that Tony couldn’t discern. He glanced at her, recognizing chagrin and a mixture of amusement and mortification – he’d seen that look a lot in his time with her, _before_ Peter had settled him – but then turned back to Peter, once more determined to be as honest as he could be while still keeping the boy’s age in consideration.

“We are buddy. But you already knew that. Right?”

“Yes.”

“So if the door is closed, you make sure that you knock, first. Okay? Same rules apply to _that_ door as have been applying to the guestroom. If Pepper’s in our room, she might getting changed, or putting on her makeup – or she might be hiding.”

“From me?”

“From both of us. Sometimes, she might need a break from being girlfriend and part-time mom.”

Peter’s eyes widened, a little, at that particular turn of phrase, and Tony wondered if he’d gone a step too far naming Pepper in any maternal capacity. Both for Peter, and if _Pepper_ wasn’t ready for that kind of label – or responsibility. But he _had_ warned her that they came as a set. She’d been taking that role in a moderate capacity, already, after all, and she was really good at it. The boy glanced at Pepper, who smiled, but he only nodded.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“Are you alright with this, Peter?” Pepper asked, sincerely. “We don’t want you to feel rushed into anything. We could wait a while longer…”

The boy shrugged his bony shoulders.

“The good things are better if you don’t have to wait,” he pointed out.

“And this is a good thing, isn’t it?” Tony asked.

Peter smiled.

“Yeah. Does this mean you aren’t going home, now, even though your apartment is cleaned?”

“Well, I won’t be going there to _sleep_ ,” she confirmed. “But most of my things are still there, so we’ll have to move them – and decide what is there that I don’t need, so I can decide what to do with it.”

“You can sell it on ebay.”

“We’ll bring whatever she wants to have here, here,” Tony told his son. “There’s plenty of room,” he added, mostly to Pepper. “Whatever you want to keep, but don’t want to have, here, we’ll store in the old apartment where JARVIS can keep an eye on it.”

He owned the apartment, outright, even if they weren’t living there. Just like he had several other houses and apartments around the world. Had to have someplace to store his car collection, after all.

Peter’s eyes lit up, again. “You can take stuff to the cabin in the boonies.”

“That’s a very good idea,” Pepper approved.

Of course, she didn’t own that cabin, yet, but she would want some of her own things there, eventually. “You could take some of your things, as well.”

The boy looked excited at the thought, and he hugged himself. Tony knew that it wasn’t just because of the mention of the cabin, though. It was a big step for them, having Pepper moving in with them, but Peter was clearly as eager for that step as Tony was.

“Let’s make plans later,” he said, leaning back onto the cushions of the sofa and beckoning for Peter to join them, now. “I say we watch a movie to celebrate.”

Peter climbed into Tony’s lap, waiting for Pepper to settle herself next to his father, and then he switched over to hers, trembling with happiness at the thought of being able to choose either lap – or to tuck himself between them – any time that he wanted. It was incredible.

“Are you cold?” Pepper asked, feeling him shiver, and reaching for the couch comforter that hung on the back so she could drape it over them all.

“I’m okay.” He grinned over at Tony when his father ran a hand along his forehead, just to make sure.

“We should let Pepper choose the movie, tonight, son. What do you think?”

“Yeah.”

He truly wouldn’t have cared if she picked a channel that only showed commercials. The little boy shifted in Pepper’s lap, stretching himself so that his feet and legs were resting on Tony, while the rest of him was in Pepper’s embrace, then he sighed, happily, and looked at the screen, waiting for Pepper’s choice.

Stark put his far hand on Peter’s legs under the blankets, and the other found Pepper’s hand so he could hold it. She turned on the first Pixar film that came up, wriggled just enough to make sure she had a good one-handed hold on Peter, and then set the remote aside so she could hold Tony’s hand.

That hadn’t been so terrible, really. She hadn’t expected Peter to _veto_ the idea of her moving in, but he was _eight_ , and despite his brilliance, he could be erratic, sometimes, so she was more relieved than she’d really expected to be that he was so eager. She’d make a note to have Tony make sure that Dr. Wayne knew about their change in living situations before Peter’s appointment, so the man could make sure there wasn't anything that they needed to know – or do – to make it easier for him.

The room grew quiet as the movie started, and Peter watched it, managing to get lost in the excitement of the cartoon adventures of a rat that wanted nothing more than to be a chef. He giggled at a funny part and realized that every time that he did, he could feel Pepper tighten her hold for just a moment, as if she were enjoying his amusement more than she was enjoying the movie.


	159. 159

Peter was still awake when the movie was over, but only _just_. He was warm, and comfortable, and so sleepy that he managed to open his eyes when the credits rolled and the lights came on in the living room, but not much more than that.

“Are you awake?” Tony asked, amused.

The boy nodded, and then closed his eyes and melted against Pepper’s embrace. He loved to be held at the best of times; all of them knew that – even the avengers were subjected to the boy climbing into a lap at any time when one was presented – and at the moment, he was being nurtured in the best of ways. Even if he didn’t understand it in that many terms. Pepper was imprinting on him, and he liked it.

She smiled.

“I think his long day has caught up to him.”

“Yeah.” Tony moved to get up and reach for him. “I’ll put him to bed.”

“Don’t forget my story,” Peter mumbled, not even opening his eyes when he was transferred from Pepper’s arms to his father’s. “I want nine…”

Stark pressed a kiss against his ear; the action so loving that Pepper felt her eyes sting.

“ _Nine_ , huh?” he whispered. “How about _eight_?”

“Seven.”

“Six,” Peter countered, sleepily.

Tony winked at Pepper, who stood up to follow them into Peter’s room and pull the blankets back on Peter’s bed to make it easier to get him tucked in. She smiled at the ongoing negotiations – a definite reminder that she should never try to barter when she was half asleep – especially with Tony.

“Five.”

“Four.”

“Three…”

The billionaire put his son to bed, pulling the blankets up over him.

“One story, _and_ I’ll tuck you in, also.”

“Okay.”

Peter never opened his eyes – even when Tony’s hand came to cup the little boy’s cheek.

“There once was a little guy, who was very much loved, and his dad was glad that he was there with him. The end.”

Peter sighed, and dozed off, and Pepper rubbed her hand along Tony’s shoulder.

“That was amusing…”

He smirked.

“The story? Or taking advantage of a sleepy negotiator?”

“The story was wonderful.”

“And _nonfiction_ ,” he agreed. He looked up at her. “Are you ready for bed?”

“Yes.”

He took her hand and led her to the door.

“You got him, JARVIS?”

_“Of course.”_

The billionaire closed the door behind them, and the lights went out.

><><><><>>

He woke with a start, transitioning from asleep to awake instantly, as he often did.

Peter sat up in his bed, looking around.

“JARVIS?”

_“I’m here. Everything is fine.”_

The AI was always quick to reassure in those moments of confusion between asleep and awake – and it worked every time. The boy didn’t need the lights on – he could see fairly well in the low lighting – but JARVIS brought the room’s lights up, a little, anyway. It would help Peter waken, easier.

“I had a dream.”

_“A bad one?”_

“No.” Peter looked around, again. “I think it was just weird.”

_“Your heart rate is elevated. Take a few deep breaths.”_

The boy did as he was told.

“Is it snowing?”

_“Not here.”_

Peter pushed the blankets back and climbed to the top bunk without using the ladder. He wasn’t very good at using his wall sticking abilities, yet, and Tony and Natasha both had pointed out that there wasn't any real _hurry_ for him to develop that skill too quickly. He _liked_ trying to use it, though, and he could usually manage to get to the top bunk without getting himself stuck, now. If he _did_ find himself unable to ascend any further, he’d simply push himself off the wood surface and allow a fall to the bottom bed so he could start over.

The little boy pushed the blankets back as he reached the top and covered back up even as he moved the curtain aside to look out the window. It was dark, but he could see that there weren’t any clouds. A million stars were lighting up the night sky.

“It’s cold out, huh?”

He couldn’t feel it; his room was warm and the window and walls were well insulated, but it just looked cold. Especially with the fresh snow on the ground. From the view he had, he could even see some of the snowman army that he, Pepper and Tony had made the day before.

_“It definitely is,”_ JARVIS agreed _. “You should go back to sleep. It’s still early.”_

“Is Tony sleeping?”

_“Yes.”_

Peter wondered if he’d be mad if he went and cuddled up with him. But then he remembered something.

“Is _Pepper_ sleeping, too?”

_“Yes.”_

“With him?”

_“Yes.”_

Oh.

They probably wouldn’t want him with them, just then. Peter had learned the hard way that grownups didn’t want a little kid in the room when they were doing it – and it didn’t matter how bad the nightmare was that had driven him out of his bed in the first place. Peter shivered, drawing his blankets around him a little tighter, but he wasn't upset. He was glad that Pepper was going to be living with them. Even if it meant that he didn’t get to sleep with Tony, too.

“Pepper’s going to live with us, for good.” Peter said. “Did you know?”

_“I heard.”_ The AI sounded smug _. “A big step for all involved.”_

“What do you mean?”

_“I mean you should try to go back to sleep. If Pepper is moving in, then there will be much to do, and tomorrow will be a good time to begin the transition.”_

“Oh. I didn’t think of that.” The boy lay down, resting his head on the pillow as the lights went out, once more. He didn’t close his eyes, though, too excited, now, about having Pepper living with them. “It’s going to be neat.”

_“Yes. Go to sleep.”_

“I’m not _sleepy_.”

If an AI could sigh or roll its eyes, there was no doubt that JARVIS might be doing both. But this wasn't new to either of them, really.

_“Close your eyes and relax,”_ JARVIS told the boy. _“I’ll tell you a story.”_

“An _adventure_ story?” Peter asked, hopefully.

_“A love story.”_

“Ewww.”

_“Close your eyes and get comfortable.”_

The AI knew by now that if he told Peter an adventure story, the boy wouldn’t go back to sleep any time soon. Through his access to the networks that he had unlimited stories that he could tell, and endless patience to tell them. While Peter shifted, getting himself comfortable as he’d been told, JARVIS access a bedtime story for children site and began a story about three dogs who were lost and looking for their way home. Long before the story ended, Peter was asleep, again. The room went silent, except for the soft breathing of the occupant in the top bunk, and JARVIS was tempted to make himself an arm so he could pat himself on the back.

Things were going well.


	160. 160

“JARVIS? How does it look?”

_“We’re at 87%, now, and I should be finished by this evening.”_

“So soon? Nice.”

_“I’m not just another pretty face, sir.”_

Stark smiled.

“And the nano tech suit? How are we doing on that one?”

So what if he was just finishing one suit that was promising to be amazing; he was always working on – and planning out – bigger and better.

_“That tech is a bit more complicated.”_

“Give me a number. Just so I can feel like we’re getting somewhere.”

_“Probably closer to 28%.”_

“Well, that isn’t _horrible_ ,” Tony conceded. “It’s brand new tech, after all.”

He was in a good mood, otherwise he might be complaining a little more. How could he not be, really? The weekend had been perfect. He and Peter had spent Sunday at Pepper’s. Tony had helped her box up the essentials that she really needed at his ( _their_ ) place, while Peter had spent a lot of time staying out of their way and playing with Legos at the coffee table. He’d brought only a few with him, since Tony had pointed out that the idea was to make less mess, not bring in more things, but he had all the Avengers figurines, and Batman, and the Batman that he’d given Pepper the time that he’d stayed with her.

By the time they had everything boxed up that she wanted to take, and loaded into her car and Tony’s, they’d made a bit of a dent in the items in the apartment. Much of it had been makeup, hair products and clothes, but that was fine. He wanted her to be comfortable at the house, and he’d have moved all of his things but his comb out of his bathroom if that was what it took.

Luckily, that wasn't what it’d taken.

His closet was so big that adding her clothes to one side didn’t pose a problem, and his bathroom could handle her toiletries. Peter had helped carry boxes to and from the cars willingly, also ready to help and prove to her that he was happy with the change in their status quo. They didn’t help her unpack, though. The two guys made dinner while Pepper arranged things to her liking, and then they’d played giant JENGA and board games until it was time for Peter to go to bed.

He’d negotiated a long bedtime story from Tony and had been cuddled between the two of them as it had been read. Then, he’d been kissed by both of them when they told him goodnight. Tony and Pepper had gone into the bedroom and she’d spent some time finishing unpacking her things -now with him to help, so she wouldn’t have her things in his way – despite his assurance that he didn’t mind her putting her things everywhere.

Then he’d taken her to bed, but had ended up falling asleep cuddling with her, worn out by the long weekend, and needing the sleep to charge up for the new one to come.

“How long until Peter’s out of school?” Stark asked his AI, putting a diagnostic tool to one of the panels of the new suit.

_“An hour.”_

It was Monday, so he’d be picking his son up to take him to his appointment.

“Remind me in fifteen minutes.”

It wasn't unheard of for Tony to get distracted, after all.

_“There’s something I want to bring up with you,”_ JARVIS told him.

Stark frowned.

That was new.

“Yeah?”

_“I concluded my investigation of Peter’s DNA tests.”_

Tony put the tool on his worktable.

“I wasn't aware that you were doing one.”

_“I was curious. And I knew you would eventually be, as well.”_

That was definitely true, and Tony couldn’t deny it.

“What did you learn?”

A display next to the table came on, and on it was an image of a spider.

_“I am 99.87% certain that he was bitten by a spider,”_ the AI told him. _“A wolf spider, to be precise.”_

“A wolf spider, huh?”

_“That is what he is matching up with.”_

“What does that mean for us? And for him? Any idea?”

_“The wolf spider doesn’t spin a web,”_ JARVIS said. _“Chances are that will not be a concern for Peter. They are quick, and they hunt their prey, rather than ambush.”_

“They climb walls and are pretty strong, presumably.”

_“Correct. It doesn’t really help us to know what effects the assimilation will truly have on him, but it does give some closure.”_

‘Yeah.” Tony sighed, and looked at the spider on the display. “What’s the lifespan of one of these things? Is that going to matter? Is he in danger?”

He felt a sudden pang of concern that actually made his stomach clench. What if there was a problem? What if Peter was destined to be short-lived? What if he lost him before he ever truly had a chance to-“

_“Calm yourself, sir,”_ JARVIS said, easily catching the rise in Tony’s heartrate and blood pressure. _“Peter is fine. I checked his cellular structure and proteins for any indication of potential decay or fragility and found none. On the contrary, he has remarkable regenerative properties.”_

“Meaning he heals quickly…?”

_“Indeed.”_

They’d already seen that, really, hadn’t they?

“Well, that’s a plus.”

_“He may also be harder to seriously injure.”_

“Oh?”

_“Spiders are sturdy creatures – the wolf spider is an exceptional example of that. We know he can be injured, of course, but serious injuries might be limited for him – broken bones, for example.”_

“Not something we’re going to test.”

_“It would not be advisable.”_

“No.” Tony smiled. “Pepper wouldn’t be the only one standing in line to kill us if we tried that.”

_“I’m a voice in the wall,”_ JARVIS reminded him. _“I’m safe. You would be in danger, however, should she find out.”_

The billionaire snorted.

“Anything else I need to know?”

He was taking him to Dr. Wayne, after all, and the psychologist would ask about sleeping patterns and bad/weird dreams.

JARVIS understood the question, immediately, of course.

_“He’s been waking more frequently in the night. No nightmares – he calls the dreams weird – and they don’t end with him afraid.”_

“I noticed that he hasn’t come to sleep with me in a while.”

_“Your bed is occupied,”_ the AI reminded him.

Oh.

Tony frowned at that. He didn’t know what age a kid should stop seeking mom or dad’s bed because of bad dreams, but Stark hoped that Peter wasn't at that age, yet. It was probably because he was still so new at the dad thing, but Tony had to admit that he was comforted, too, when the little boy would come cuddle with him. That was definitely something he could bring up with Dr. Wayne – and then with Pepper, of course.

“Thanks, JARVIS.”

_“You’re welcome, sir.”_

He checked the other manufacturing pod.

“Will this be done by this weekend?”

_“Barring any complications, it’ll be done Thursday.”_

“Then he can try it out when I take my new one there for initial testing, on Saturday.”

_“Are you going to tell him?”_

“I _told_ him I was going to build him a suit,” Tony replied, smiling. “Is it my fault if he forgot, or didn’t remember to ask me about it?”

_“No.”_

“Good. Don’t tell him, then,” Stark replied. “It’ll be fun to surprise him.”

_“Very good, sir.”_

Tony looked at his watch.

“I’m going to head out. Let Pepper know, will you?”

He didn’t wait for that acknowledgement. Instead, he left, whistling cheerfully at the very notion that he was leaving his workroom to go get his son from school.

How domestic could you be, really?


	161. 161

It was becoming a regular thing for Tony and Peter to go to Pepper’s office on Monday. Mainly it was because it was easier to check in with her after the appointment with Peter’s psychologist – especially now that she was living with them – because then they didn’t have to go over things more than once, really. The other reason was that _she_ enjoyed having him come into her office for his snack after school, and Monday was the only day that she could clear her schedule at the right time to allow herself to focus only on him.

She now kept a stash of cookies in her desk for him (and her as well as Tony) and she always received a head-up from security, now, when Peter and Tony parked in Stark’s personal space and headed for the elevator. When they called, it was a simple matter for her to set her tablet aside, or turn off the display on her computer, and pull a small plate from the same drawer as the cookies and put several on the plate. A quick trip to the mini fridge near her desk would allow her to set a carton of chocolate milk down, as well.

She was just retaking her seat when there was a knock on the door and Tony poked his head into the office. She smiled when Peter did the same thing, with his head below his father’s – well below it.

“Busy?” the older of the two asked.

“No. Come in.”

Peter skipped into the room and over to her desk. He ignored the plate of cookies – for the moment, at least – to come and climb into her lap.

“Did you have a good day?” he asked, before she could ask him the same question.

Pepper smiled and hugged him, feeling warm and gooey like she always did when she had him in her arms.

“I _did_. How about you?”

“It was fun. I had pizza at lunch, and my class is going to the art museum next week, and I passed my math test and I went to Dr. Wayne’s, and we had ice cream, there.”

“At Dr. Wayne’s?”

The boy smiled and nodded.

“Yeah.”

“So you don’t need cookies, today?”

“I _do_!” He proved it by turning in her lap and reaching for one – but seemed perfectly content to stay where he was while he munched on it. “I didn’t have a _lot_ of ice cream.”

She smiled, too, and looked at Tony, who was settling into the chair across from her and also reached for a cookie.

“How did everything go?”

Which was her way of asking if there was anything that she needed to know about. Pepper understood that moving in with Tony was putting her in a position where she was going to be supporting his parenting, and she _wanted_ to support him. And Peter. It meant that she needed to know of any underlying issues, though – another reason that they spent time in her office on Mondays, now.

“Nothing too serious. Peter’s not sleeping through the night, most of the time, but that isn’t new. No bad dreams that he remembers, so that’s good – right buddy?”

The boy nodded, leaning back against Pepper, comfortably.

“Yeah.”

“My new suit is done,” Tony told her. “It’s ready for preliminary testing.”

“Which you normally do out at the compound, right?”

“Correct. If something is going to fail, I’d rather it be there. If I crash and burn, it isn’t going to be into rush-hour traffic, that way.”

She frowned, worried that Peter would become concerned, but the boy didn’t tense in her embrace – and she heard him giggle. Clearly he wasn’t worried.

“Is there much chance of that happening?”

“Slim to none,” he confirmed. “But it’s a good chance for the others to see the suit and what new add-ons it’s capable of. I’m going to take Peter so he can visit, and we’ll stay overnight. _You’re_ welcomed to come…”

Pepper appreciated the offer, but she shook her head.

“Sounds exciting, but I’m going to pass.” For one thing, it was a good chance for Tony to spend some time alone with Peter (as alone as they could be with the Avengers and SHIELD around) For another, she had things that she could accomplish. “I think I’m going to use the day off to bring more things from my place, and maybe get some others moved to the apartment.”

“Don’t do any heavy lifting,” Stark told her. “That’s what movers are for.”

She nodded.

“Just little things,” Pepper assured him. “I’ll save the big stuff for _Peter_ to carry.”

The boy giggled, and stuffed the rest of his cookie into his mouth before sliding off her lap and taking the carton of milk. He settled himself in the other chair.

“I’ll carry whatever you need.”

“I know, honey. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He opened his milk, and Pepper exchanged a tender look with Tony, who smiled, and then rolled his eyes, clearly amused by the fact that they were so wrapped up in the little guy.

“Are you almost ready to go to daycare?”

Peter nodded. It wasn’t a large carton, after all.

“Yeah.”

“Will you be here?” Tony asked, clearly telling her that he did have something that he wanted to discuss with her, but not – necessarily – something that he wanted to discuss with Peter, as well.

“Of course.” She smiled at the boy. “Have fun.”

“I will,” he assured her. “We’re going to make playdough.”

“Because they were trying to think of the messiest thing that they could come up with to send home with him,” Tony said, getting to his feet. He wasn’t too worried. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll be here.”

She reached for a cookie, and nibbled on it while she watched them leave.

><><><><><>

“I _told_ you it was going to be messy…”

Pepper smirked, looking over at the table, where Peter was sitting, playing with some brightly colored homemade playdough that he’d shown her as they left the tower. He’d then spent most of the ride home explaining the very simple process of making it – although he made it sound a lot more interesting than it probably was. He’d set his backpack in his room, hung up his coat, and had immediately gone to the kitchen table to play with it, while Tony and Pepper worked together to make dinner.

Nothing complicated _there_ , either, but Peter liked chicken and it was easy to bake and turn into a real meal when thrown together with potatoes and a vegetable side.

Now that end of the table was smeared with blue and red dough, and Peter’s fingers were dyed every color of the rainbow – as was his cheek where he’d obviously rubbed his face.

“It’ll wipe clean,” she said, unconcerned. “Besides, his art teacher wants him to branch out from strictly creating with Legos, right?”

“With paints, and markers,” Tony replied.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Do you _really_ think paints would be less messy?” she challenged. “And we already know what he does when he gets hold of a Sharpie.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“It was one goatee – one time. He’s been pretty good, since.”

“Saving up for something spectacular?”

“I hope not.” He kissed her and then walked over to the table with a washcloth in hand. “Hey, buddy. Dinner’s going to be ready in about fifteen minutes. Go wash your hands – and your face – and come help set the table, will you?”

“Yeah.”

Peter put the ball of playdough into the zip-lock bag that held the rest of it, and took it with him to his room, leaving a smeared mess at the table. The billionaire shook his head, amused despite the mess that he was going to have to clean, and started wiping it down.

By the time Peter returned, his hands more or less cleaned and the smear on his face giving mute testimony to the less than concentrated effort the boy had made to wash his face, the table was clean enough to start setting it with plates and cutlery.

“I’m going to go change,” Pepper told them, sliding her fingers along Peter’s shoulder for no other reason than to remind him that she was happy to be with him.

She vanished into the bedroom and Tony turned to his son, who was fishing forks and knives out of the drawer.

“Hey, let’s talk for a minute.”

Peter looked up at him.

“Okay.”

Stark picked the boy up and seated him on the island so he was more on the same level and he smiled when he looked into those big brown eyes. So intelligent but still so young and innocent.

“I love you.”

It hadn’t been exactly what he’d intended to say, but it popped out, because it was true. And it made Peter smile.

“I love you, too.”

Tony tapped his nose, lovingly.

“I spoke with Dr. Wayne.”

“Today?”

“Yes. While you were finishing your ice cream.”

“About what?”

“You, of course.” Tony put his hands on the countertop, one on either side of Peter’s legs. “I was worried about you.”

“How come?”

“Well… with Pepper here, now, I was worried you’d have a bad night, or a bad dream, or something, and think that you couldn’t come talk to me, if you wanted to.”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah. I can’t, can I? May never let me sleep with her, but when she had someone living with us, or one of her boyfriends was over and they were doing it, she wouldn’t let me in the same room.”

“And you _shouldn’t_ be in the room when _that’s_ going on,” he agreed. “But you need to remember that I’m here for you. If you need to come talk to me, then you should.”

“What about Pepper?”

“I asked her if she would be okay with you coming to find me – or her – if you needed to, and she said that she hoped that you would be comfortable with that.”

He’d actually asked Dr. Wayne how old was too old for a child to go sleep with their parents if he’d had a bad dream, and had been told that there were a ton of variables to factor into a question like that. He’d also reminded Tony that Peter had had a pretty rough time of it, and that as things settled, the nightmares and weird dreams almost certainly would, as well.

Which meant that Peter would sleep through the night more often.

And then he’d spoken to Pepper to explain the problem, and ask her what she wanted to do about it. She’d been willing to allow Peter into the bed with them – provided Tony used JARVIS as a way to make sure that Peter didn’t walk in on them in any compromising positions, or activities. That had been what he’d intended, in the first place, so he’d agreed.

And would have, if that was what it took to make sure Peter was reassured.

“But what if you’re doing it?”

“Then you can’t come in,” Tony told him. He smiled. “I don’t know how often you think we’re going to be doing that,” he said. “But it isn’t every night.”

“No?”

The billionaire shook his head.

“No. If you wake up in the middle of the night, and you’re scared, or upset, and JARVIS isn’t enough to get you back to sleep, ask him if it’s okay to come into our room.”

“He’ll know?”

“He’ll know.”

_“I’ll know,”_ JARVIS agreed.

Tony rolled his eyes at the clear indicator that his AI was everywhere. The action made Peter smile.

“Pepper won’t care?”

“She won’t.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yep.” He leaned forward and kissed the top of Peter’s head. “She told me that she wants you to be comfortable. Besides, you’ve fallen asleep in her bed, before.”

“Yeah.” Peter smiled. “She’s comfortable.”

“I know, buddy.” Tony picked him up, and hugged him. Hard. “Let’s finish making the table, so we can eat.”

“Okay.”

He started putting the silverware on the table just as Pepper returned, alerted by JARVIS that Tony was done with his conversation with Peter. She was now dressed in lounge pants and her Batman t-shirt, which made Tony roll his eyes every time he saw her in it. She thought it was hilarious – and the shirt was comfortable – so she wore it, fairly often. Besides, Peter’s expression always lit up, happily, when he saw her in it. She’d have to remind Tony to find his and wear it, occasionally, too.

“When are you guys heading to the compound on Friday?” she asked, reaching for the plates. “After school? Or after daycare?”

“Peter has a field trip on Friday,” Tony replied, before Peter could say anything. “He’s going to the art museum in the morning. Because of that, he has a half day, so we’ll leave when he gets done, there.”

She looked over.

“Are you going to be a chaperone?”

“No. I’d only be a distraction. SHIELD will have a couple of shadows on him, and Maria will be at his side.”

Peter smiled, excitedly.

“It’s going to be fun.”

True, it was an art museum, but there wasn’t a kid alive who didn’t love a field trip.

“Did you sign his permission slip?”

“Yes. And when the field trip is over, I requested to have the slip returned so I can get it framed.”

“Seriously?”

“My first permission slip? Absolutely.”

Peter smiled at that, feeling relieved about the conversation with Tony – and just plain excited about the upcoming field trip and weekend at the compound.

It was going to be fun.


	162. 162

It was early Friday afternoon when Tony picked Peter up from school. The SUV was parked out in front of the building, with the motor running and Tony inside, keeping warm. Right up until he saw Peter and Maria walk out of the front door and down the steps. Then he got out and met them at the driver’s side door.

“How was it?” he asked, both of them.

The SHIELD agent rolled her eyes.

“Thrilling.”

Stark grinned at the sarcasm in her tone.

“Join the super secret spy agency, see the art museum,” he quipped.

“It was neat,” Peter said, looking much more enthusiastic. “Some of those drawers aren’t any better than me.”

“They’re _artists_ ,” Tony corrected. “Or painters, I suppose.” He pulled the boy’s hood up, against the chilly wind. “And I’ve seen some of those paintings and I would agree with you, whole-heartedly.”

Hill snorted.

“You got him?”

“Yes. Thank you. Have a good weekend.”

“You, too.”

“Bye, Maria.”

She smiled.

“Bye, Peter.”

Tony ushered the boy into the car an out of the cold breeze.

“Are you hungry?”

“We ate at the museum.”

“Good.” He buckled the boy into the booster seat and tousled his hair. “We’ll have a snack when we get to the compound.”

“Okay.”

As they drove to the compound, Peter told Tony all about the visit to the art museum, and then asked him about his day in return. The billionaire hadn’t done much, really, He was bringing his newest suit, and had made sure that he was going to have everything that he needed in order to test it every way that he had planned. Peter knew that the suit was with them in the car, but he didn’t know that the one Tony had made for him was in the car, as well – and Tony had no intention of telling him until the last minute.

He was looking forward to seeing the happy surprise on the boy’s face.

><><><><><>

Natasha was waiting for them when they pulled up, and Peter was quick to take off his seatbelt and open his door.

“Hey, Natasha,” he said, his breath catching in his throat when she swept him up into her arms, immediately.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She hugged him, tightly. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me, too.”

He put his arms around her, and hugged her as tight as he could with his bulky coat on.

Tony smiled at the sight of the deadliest woman in the world cuddling his son as he got out of the car.

“Are you glad to see _me_ , too?”

“Of course,” she agreed, shifting Peter onto her hip so she could hold him with one arm and turn her attention to the billionaire. “Otherwise Peter would have had to _walk_ out here – and that would have taken him all weekend, which would have cut into our fun time.”

He rolled his eyes and opened the back of the SUV.

“Put him down, Natasha. There’s too much for me to carry, alone.”

Romanoff smirked and let Peter down as the two of them moved to join Tony.

“What all did you bring?” she asked, somewhat surprised at how many cases there were. “I don’t see a kitchen sink anywhere.”

“My new suit and some hardware for it,” he told her. “And a few other odds and ends.”

They didn’t have any clothes with them, or toiletries. They both had plenty of things in their rooms at the compound, and Peter had toys enough to keep him occupied even if they were snowed in for a full year, Tony was certain. The boy picked up his backpack – which did have a couple of homework assignments in it – and then reached for the biggest of the cases.

“Can I carry your suit?” he asked. “ _Please_?”

“Yup.”

It was a good thing that the suit was in a hard-sided protective case. Peter pulled it from the SUV without a problem as far as handling the weight – which Tony knew was considerable – but the case was bulky and it hit the bumper and then the ground with a noisy clunking sound. Tony rolled his eyes, amused, and reached for the smaller case.

“Anything I need to know about?” he asked Natasha, as she closed the hatch.

“A few things, but nothing too serious.” She looked at Peter, and then back at his father. “Did he _really_ get in trouble at school for cussing another kid out?”

“He _did_ ,” Tony confirmed. “And he got in trouble for it, didn’t you?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah. A little.”

“What happened?”

“I got mad at William Anderson.”

“Why?”

Peter was a pretty easygoing kid, Natasha knew.

“He said I was wrong – and I wasn’t – and called me a liar.”

“Oh. What did you say?”

She had to know, of course. That was some juicy gossip, if nothing else – and it wasn’t a bad thing that they knew Peter actually did have a fuse. It was just incredibly long.

“He told him to fuck off,” Tony replied, before Peter could.

Romanoff’s eyes widened, and the corner of the billionaire’s mouth twitched to see the woman’s expression. She was incredibly good at hiding her reactions, and hadn’t been able to in this instance.

“Wow. Did you wash his mouth out with soap?”

“I had to write an essay,” Peter said as they headed into the building, with him practically dragging the case, although it wasn’t heavy for him. “And I missed daycare.”

“Huh.”

“The punishment fit the crime,” Stark assured her.

“What brought that on?”

“I was mad…”

“It’s figured out, now,” Tony said. “And he’s _not_ going to do it, again. Right?”

“Right.”

They stopped off at Tony’s workroom to get rid of the cases.

“Come on,” she said, swinging Peter back up into her arms. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Who?” Peter asked, grinning.

“Yes,” Tony echoed, curiously. “ _Who_?”

“It’s a surprise.”

There were very few people that Tony would have put up with that response from. Natasha was one of them – although he knew it didn’t matter, really, since if she didn’t want to tell him who it was, she wouldn’t. She smiled, as if she understood what he was thinking, and then turned her attention back to Peter as they walked toward the lounge, asking the boy about the rest of his week, and what he’d been doing since she saw him last.

When they reached the lounge, Peter was still telling her about the trip to the museum, but he trailed off when she carried him through the entrance. The little boy smiled. Steve was there, and Clint, and Sam. They were sitting at one of the tables, talking to another man that Peter didn’t know – but who Tony obviously did.

“ _Bruce_ …”

The stranger smiled, getting to his feet to meet them halfway.

“Hey, Tony.”

Stark offered him his hand, smiling his surprise.

“Why didn’t you say something? I didn’t know you were coming. When did you get back into the country?”

“This morning.” He shook Tony’s hand. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You _did_.”

Banner looked pointedly at the little boy Natasha was holding, before looking back at his friend.

“Are you going to introduce us?”

Getting over his surprise, Tony reached for Peter, taking him from Natasha who willingly handed him over – for the moment, at least.

“This is _Peter_ ,” he said, introducing them. “Peter? This is my friend Bruce. Bruce Banner.”

The little boy went shy, but he didn’t hide his face in Tony’s neck or shoulder like both Tony and Natasha – and the others watching – expected him to. He smiled.

“Hi.”

Bruce’s smile was almost as shy.

“Hi, Peter. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“ _Everything_?” Tony asked, glancing at Natasha, who shook her head.

“Not even _close_ ,” she replied. “We’ve been catching up on other things. Although he _does_ know that Peter’s last name is Stark and that he’s a pretty smart guy. Aren’t you, Peter?”

The boy’s smile widened, especially when Natasha stole him back from Tony.

“Yeah.”

The three moved toward the table, and Steve stood up, clearly planning on mooching Peter from the superspy – but Natasha wasn’t ready to give him up, just yet.

“I can’t believe you adopted a kid,” Bruce said, shaking his head, but looking amazed and not at all condoning.

“Neither can I,” Tony said, reaching out and brushing his palm against Peter’s cheek before he sat down. “Pretty crazy, huh?”

“Yeah.” Bruce turned his attention to Peter, not missing just how easily the boy melted into Natasha’s embrace, his cheek now coming to rest on her shoulder while he studied the newcomer. Those brown eyes were adorable, yes, but the scientist could see the intelligence in them as Peter studied Bruce as intently as Bruce was studying him. “What’s it like living with Tony, Peter?”

“I like it. Pepper lives with us, too.”

Banner’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, and he turned to Tony.

“ _Seriously_?”

“Yes. We’re officially hooking up.” He turned to Peter, tapping his nose. “Don’t you dare tell Pepper I called it that.”

Peter grinned.

“Okay.”

The lack of surprise on the expressions of the others made it clear that they already knew about Pepper moving in, permanently. Which wasn’t surprising, of course.

“What else have I missed?” Bruce asked, reaching for the coffee that he’d abandoned when he’d gone to greet Tony. “Did you get a _tattoo_? Learn to Samba?”

Stark shook his head, amused.

“I made a new suit.”

“Just one?”

“Well… several since I’ve seen you, last. This one’s pretty cool – I’m out here to test it out, tomorrow – but the next one is the one that’s going to be the deal changer.”

Banner was immediately interested. Tony didn’t make a statement like that unless it was something extraordinary coming down the pike, after all.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Wait…” Natasha said, interrupting. She looked at the boy she was holding. “Do _you_ already know about the new suit?” she asked Peter.

“It’s little robots.”

“Are you interested in this conversation? Or are you ready to go play outside with me and Clint?”

Peter looked at Tony, and smiled.

“Go play.”

“That’s what I thought.” She handed her little burden over to Clint as she stood up. “We’re going to go play while you guys catch up.”

“Bring him back in time for dinner,” Tony said.

“Of course.”

Steve stayed – mainly because he wanted to find out what was so special about the new suit, too – and hadn’t missed Peter’s comment about little robots – but Sam stood up to join Clint and Natasha.

“I call dibs on a swing.”

Banner and Tony watched as the little group left, and Bruce turned to his friend.

“I just can’t leave you unsupervised, can I?”

Stark snorted, amused and pleased at having his friend back in the states.

“I _was_ supervised,” he corrected, gesturing toward Steve as an example. “But the little guy wormed his way into things. With a lot of help from my AI.”

“Really?”

“Tony was scared of Peter…” Steve said, smirking.

The billionaire rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t _scared_ of him,” he said. “I already explained that. Just a little creeped out.”

“Why?”

“It’s a long story,” Tony replied. “Let me get some coffee and I’ll tell you.”

“Are you going to tell him what Peter can do?” Steve asked.

“Of course.”

Banner could be trusted not to tell anyone who shouldn’t know. They knew he could keep a secret, after all – didn’t they?


	163. 163

It took a while to tell the story, but by the time Stark was finished Bruce was looking both amazed and confused. Amazed because Tony really did sound like he was settling ( _settled_?) down, and confused because he didn’t understand what the man was telling him about the boy’s abilities.

“What do you mean when you say that he can stick to walls?” he finally asked. “Is that a metaphor for something?”

Steve smiled at that.

“No. He _sticks to walls_.”

“What?”

“I can pick Peter up and press him against a wall and he won’t fall,” Tony said, also amused at the question – although understanding, completely, why it was confusing. “He sticks.”

“How?”

“Same way that he can lift a ton,” Steve said. “Whatever bit him, it gave him some seriously interesting abilities.”

“So… some kind of mutation?” Bruce asked. “Or-“

“JARVIS thinks it was a _wolf spider_ ,” Tony said. “Peter’s DNA is riddled with a matching DNA. He can stick to walls, he’s stronger than pretty much anyone but Steve – and maybe your green alter-ego, of course – and he’s a durable little guy.”

“And he can see in the dark,” Steve added.

“Not complete darkness,” Tony corrected. “At least, I don’t think so. I haven’t really tested it.”

“He can _really_ stick to walls?”

“He _can_. Someday, with some practice, he might be able to climb them, as well. He’s not very good at it, just yet.”

“I had to rescue him from the gym wall a while back,” Steve said.

“And I’ve pulled him off the shower wall, when he wanted to experiment on himself and see if soapy walls made any difference.”

“Did they?”

“Nope. He just hung out until I rescued him. Just like when Steve did it in the gym.”

“Can I see it?”

“We’re not going to let him climb back up the gym wall,” Tony said. “It was too high, and-“

“Not on the gym wall,” Bruce interrupted. “Just on any wall. Or can he stick to anything? Have you tested him?”

The scientist in Banner was already itching to do experiments.

“He’s outside playing on the playset that Steve put together for him,” Tony said. “If you want, we can go watch him. He’s bound to end up showing you what he can do without even realizing that you’re analyzing him. Or you can just look at some of the recordings that JARVIS and SHIELD have made.”

“Can I do both?”

“Sure.”

Banner got to his feet, already reaching for the jacket he had draped over his chair.

“Let’s go.”

Tony would have liked another cup of coffee, but he could understand Bruce’s desire to see for himself what Peter was capable of – and Tony really couldn’t wait to see his friend’s reaction. He shrugged and got up, as well, looking at Steve.

“Are you coming?”

Rogers shrugged, too, affecting a nonchalance that he didn’t feel. He was looking forward to Banner’s reaction to Peter, as well.

“I’m certainly not going to sit in here, by myself. The kitchen people might try to recruit me to do dishes, or something.”

“Or worse, help with dinner,” Tony added.

“Exactly.”

The three men headed for the door.

><><><><>

“Well, that’s something you don’t see every day…”

“Right?”

They were standing on the back patio area of the compound, just at the fringe of the grassy area that the playset had been built. Tony had gone over to join Peter, Clint, and Sam. Peter was the only one actually playing on the crossbeams and bars, swinging from them happily. The adults were engaging with him, gently teasing him, and sometimes swinging him – either in a swing, or sometimes just from whatever bar he happened to be holding onto at the moment.

Bruce watched in amazement as Tony turned the boy upside down in his arms, then hung him by his feet to the cross beam that supported the monkey bars. When he let go, Peter had simply giggled – and stayed where he was, as if there were giant magnets on the soles of his boots and the beam was made of metal rather than wood.

“How long can he hang there?”

“No clue.”

“What if he fell asleep?” Bruce asked. “Would he still stay there? Or would he fall?”

Steve shrugged.

“We haven’t done a lot of experimenting on that kind of thing. Tony might know – maybe they’ve done some at home. He seems to be able to hang – or stick – until he lets go.”

“But he got stuck on the gym wall.”

“He was pretty high up, by then. Natasha thinks that he was afraid to let go – or afraid of how high up he was – and whatever keeps him sticky wouldn’t release him because he didn’t want to fall.”

“The same would apply to when he was stuck in the shower,” Bruce decided, walking over to Peter. “If he didn’t know how far up he was, or couldn’t find a safe way to land.”

Tony heard this last part as Banner walked over, and knew what he was talking about.

“That would be my guess, as well,” he agreed. “Peter? Bruce is interested in how you stick.”

The boy’s face was turning red from being upside down, but he smiled, cheerfully.

“I just _do_.”

“I see that. It doesn’t hurt?” Banner asked, coming to stand under him, and reaching out to touch him.

“No.”

“Can you let go?”

“I’m not supposed to drop, anymore,” Peter told him. “Natasha doesn’t like it.”

“He almost landed on his head,” Sam said.

“Go ahead, buddy,” Tony said to him, reaching up. “I’ll catch you.”

A moment later, Peter was ‘falling’ into Tony’s arms, and the billionaire swept him upside right, making him giggle. Which made Bruce and the others smile in response.

“So he has an interesting skillset, and he’s intelligent to boot,” Bruce said, turning his attention to the little boy. “Are you going to be an Avenger?”

“Yeah. Maybe. Or _Batman_ …”

Tony rolled his eyes, ignoring Sam’s snort of amusement.

“The Batman gig is already taken, buddy.” He hugged his son and then set him down. “Let’s go inside, alright? You’re cold and I’m hungry.”

“Okay.”

><><><><><><

As they had dinner, Peter interrogated Bruce. Now that he was more comfortable with the man – and Tony was pleased to see that the little boy was comfortable with him, so his stomach clearly wasn't warning him to stay away – Peter was excited when he found out that Bruce was a scientist. He asked him about his experiments, and what he’d been experimenting on, and where he’d been and what he’d been doing and learning while he’d been gone.

Tony was amused that it was _Bruce_ who was a little uncomfortable. Bruce was something of a loner – he _had_ to be, really, because he isolated himself from people for fear of losing control of the Hulk and hurting someone. Peter was an animated little guy with people that he liked and not afraid of conversation. By the time they were finished eating – and Peter had negotiated for hot fudge on his ice cream – Peter had made himself a new friend, and Bruce had found himself charmed by the little boy.

“How long are you going to be in town?” Stark asked his friend, watching as Peter climbed into Natasha’s lap to cuddle.

Bruce smiled when he noticed the same thing, and Romanoff smirked, not at all chagrined at being caught being used as a cuddle buddy for the little guy.

“Probably through the week. I have a few things I want to work on, here, and an experiment that I’ll work on in the lab at the tower – unless you’ve given away my things and rented out the lab?”

Tony snorted.

“I thought about it, but no.”

“You’re going to be here all weekend?”

“Tonight and tomorrow,” was the reply. “We’re going home, tomorrow evening. I’m going to try out the new suit and see how it does, and give the Avengers a chance to hang out with Peter, for a while.”

The boy smiled, nestling closer to Natasha, who brushed a kiss against his cheek.

“Good thing,” she said. “We made plans for him for tomorrow morning.”

“You _did_?” Peter asked, looking up, excitedly. “What?”

“ _Secret_ things,” she said, mysteriously. “But you need to make sure you don’t stay up too late, because we’re getting up really early.”

“All of us?”

“Yes.”

Peter looked at Tony.

“Even you?”

“No. This is an _Avenger/Peter_ thing. No dads allowed.”

“Oh.”

Tony smiled.

“They’ll have you in the morning until after lunch. After lunch, you can watch me try out the new suit.”

He needed the morning to finish the final configurations, and while he didn’t necessarily think Peter would be bored, it wasn’t as interesting as what Natasha and the others had planned. The boy didn’t know it, but they were going to be taking an early morning flight on the Quinjet out to Clint’s farm. They’d spend the morning sledding with Clint’s kids. None of the hills at Barton’s were so steep that Tony was worried, and he – of course – trusted the Avengers with Peter’s safety. Peter would have lunch at Clint’s with the others, but then it was back to the compound to watch Tony test the new suit – providing that Tony’s morning was productive.

The billionaire was looking forward to the next afternoon. Not because of _his_ new suit, though, but because of the new one that had been made for Peter. One that was going to be a total surprise, apparently, even though Tony had told him that he’d make him one. Peter either forgot, or hadn’t thought that Tony was serious. He was still learning, of course, but this surprise was going to be great as far as Tony was concerned.

Peter looked excited, but even Tony wasn’t sure which part was more exciting to the boy. Spending the morning with the Avengers, or watching the newest Ironman suit be tested.

“Wow.”

Tony looked at Bruce.

“Did you have any plans for this evening?”

“Catching up with you and the others.”

“Good. Since you’re the guest, more or less, you can decide the evening’s activities.”

Banner smiled, uncertainly. His experience with children ranked right up there with his experience with mountain lions.

“What are my options?”

“We can play Legos,” Sam said.

“Or we can go to the gym and play in the ball pit,” Steve told him.

“Or…” Natasha said, running her fingers idly though Peter’s curls. “We can build hot wheels racetracks and see how intricate they can get only using gravity and inertia.”

Stark snorted.

“You’re so hot when you say nerdy things like that, Romanoff.”

She smiled.

“Watch out, Stark. I’ll tell Pepper that you’re flirting.”

Peter giggled, and turned in Natasha’s lap so he could look at Banner.

“What do you want to do, Bruce?”

He, of course, was happy to do any of those things.

Had anyone told him that this was going to be what he was going to be doing that evening, the newcomer would have made a derisive sound and waved them away. But sure enough, they were all watching him – Peter more expectantly than anyone, he decided.

“I always did like Hot Wheels when I was growing up,” he admitted. He smiled when Peter cheered. “Do we have enough track pieces and cars for everyone to play?”

He wondered if Captain America really was going to build a racetrack with an eight-year-old. Never mind Tony Stark – he _had_ to since it was his boy, but Steve and Natasha? This he had to see, really.

“Of course, we do,” Sam assured him. “Seems like every time one of us is anywhere near a toy store – or the internet – we’re always ordering more.” He slapped the table, cheerfully, and scooped Peter out of Natasha’s lap before she could resist. “Come on, kid. Let’s go get the racetrack stuff and bring it in here.”

“Okay.”


	164. 164

“Is this how you spend your nights, now?” Bruce asked a couple of hours later.

He was asking Tony, technically, but his gesture was toward all of them. And the intricate racetrack that had been created. The thing ran through various chairs, along a bookshelf, over tables and as low as the floor, only to come back up and around the bar and the sofa.

The product of having so many creative geniuses in one room working on one project.

“Not always,” Stark replied. “Sometimes we play _Legos_. Right Peter?”

The little boy nodded.

“Yeah. Or UNO. Or Sorry.”

Banner shook his head.

“I’m amazed.”

“Not as much as I am,” Tony said. “Believe me.”

Steve scooped Peter up, and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“It’s late,” he told the boy. “And you’re supposed be getting up early. Tell everyone goodnight, and I’ll put you to bed.”

Peter giggled, happily – and why not? Yes, it was _bedtime_ , but Captain America was the one putting him to bed. It was awesome.

“You have to tell me a story,” Peter reminded him. “ _Five_ stories.”

Natasha smirked, but Steve was ready.

“One story – _and_ I’ll give you a hint about what we’re doing, tomorrow.”

The little boy’s eyes grew excited, and he squirmed around in Steve’s grip.

“Okay.” He looked at the others, somewhat upside down, still. “Goodnight.”

There were various responses, but Tony reached out and rubbed Peter’s back.

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth. I’ll come check on you, later – but _don’t_ stay awake waiting. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

They watched as Rogers carried Peter out the door and Bruce looked at the track.

“This was fun.”

“He’s a fun guy,” Sam agreed. “He doesn’t get to come out every weekend, but we have a good time with him when he’s here.”

Banner nodded.

“He’s safe, though, right? Natasha said that someone made a try to grab him?”

“ _Dead_ someones,” Romanoff corrected. “He’s safe.”

“He is,” Tony confirmed. “He has SHIELD security on him at school – and, of course, at the tower.”

SHIELD was everywhere at the tower, guided by JARVIS who was in places that they couldn’t, discreetly, be.

“But it was SHIELD that made the play, right?”

“Rogue agents,” Clint said. “That won’t happen, again.”

The way that he said it made Bruce shiver, just a little. It was a reminder of just how deadly they were. Yes, they’d just spent the evening playing Hot Wheels with Tony’s eight-year-old son, but under other circumstances, they were as dangerous as they came, and Bruce knew it – even if he didn’t often see proof of it.

“That’s good.” He turned to Tony. “Are you going sledding with them, tomorrow?”

“No. I’m finishing up the suit so I can show it off to Peter when he gets back. Are _you_?”

“Hadn’t planned on it.”

“Good. You can hang out with me, then.”

“Sounds fun.”

><><<><><><>

If Peter had been excited to hear that they were going sledding the next morning, his eyes only grew wider and more eager when he was told that they were going to Clint’s house by jet. He was still in his pajamas and sitting at the table eating breakfast with Tony when Natasha had joined them, already dressed in her leather flight suit, rather than the jeans and warm sweater that she would wear under her coat when they went sledding.

“The _Quinjet_?” he asked, his spoonful of oatmeal forgotten for the moment – as was his pop tart. “Really?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “If you’re interested?”

“Wow.”

“Oh, it gets better,” she told him. “Finish eating and go see what’s waiting for you in your room.”

“What’s waiting?”

“Eat, first,” she said, sitting down and winking at Tony as she did. It was always fun to see the child so excited, after all. “And don’t _gobble_ ,” she added.

Peter fell silent, eating as quickly as he could rather than trying to convince her to tell him. While he finished eating, Tony and Natasha simply discussed the weather, and then Pepper and how it was going for the three of them with her living with them. Not surprisingly, Peter listened and nodded his agreement at times, happily, but he was focused on eating as fast as he could without being told to slow down and didn’t have time to talk.

“Do you think we’re safe putting him on an airplane right after eating?” Tony asked.

“Peter won’t throw up on us,” Sam said, walking in just in time to hear the question. “Will you, Peter?”

“No.”

_Sam_ was wearing a flight suit, too, Tony noticed.

“Go get dressed, buddy,” he told Peter. “Don’t forget your coat, your hat, and your gloves.”

“And your boots,” Natasha said. She smiled, anticipating. “Sam will go with you to help you.”

“I can get dressed,” Peter assured her. He was excited, though, and hopped off his chair, easily. “I won’t be long.”

“I’ll come keep you company, then,” Wilson told the boy, picking him up because Peter was a fun kid to carry. He looked back at Natasha and Tony. “We’ll meet you on the Jet pad.”

“Sounds good.”

They man and boy left, and Tony turned his attention to finishing his coffee, but he smiled.

“You found a flight suit small enough to fit him?”

“No. We had it made, specially, for him. Avenger patch, and everything.”

“You guys are _spoiling_ him…” Tony accused – although he didn’t sound too annoyed.

“Says the guy who just made him an _Ironman_ suit…”

The billionaire smiled, and shrugged.

“I had extra fabricating materials, what can I say?”

She smiled.

“Come on. I want to help Clint do preflight – unless Steve’s already there.”

“Yeah.”

He was looking forward to seeing Peter in his flight suit. And, of course, just how excited the boy was going to be.

><><><><><>

They were standing in the belly of the jet when the faint sound of a door slamming and voices drew Tony’s attention from watching Natasha and Clint ready the jet for their very short flight. The three in the plane headed for the entrance and reached it just as Peter, Steve and Sam walked up.

“ _Look_!” Peter yelled, happily, running up to Tony and posing in front of him, Natasha and Clint. “Look what they made for me!”

“Wow…”

The boy was wearing a black leather flight suit that fit him perfectly. It was a miniature version of the one Clint was wearing. Not form fitting like Natasha’s, and no Captain America star like Steve’s, but the Avenger A was prominent on the right shoulder and on a patch on his front. Peter was clearly thrilled – which was the whole idea, really. He didn’t _need_ a flight suit, after all – but it was one more way to include him.

“It’s neat, huh?”

“It’s _incredible_. Are you warm enough?”

“Yeah.”

He had a backpack – not his regular one – that was clearly holding his coat and mittens and he was wearing his snow boots.

Looking smug, Steve and Sam walked up the ramp, as well, and Tony nodded an acknowledgement of thanks for the effort they’d gone through for the boy. Then he turned to Natasha, who had knelt in front of Peter to run her fingers along the shoulders of the suit.

“When will you be back?”

“After lunch, but well before dark,” she told him. “We’ll give you a heads up when we leave Clint’s.”

“Thanks.” He touched Peter’s head to get his attention. “Ground rules for the flight…”

Peter looked up at him, grinning.

“Yeah?”

“Keep your seatbelt on.”

“Okay.”

“Listen to Natasha – or whoever is telling you what to do.”

Peter nodded.

“Okay.”

“And _don’t_ fall out.”

Steve snorted, amused.

“That’s good advice.”

“We’ll take good care of him,” Natasha promised.

“I know.” Tony hugged his son and then turned to the ramp to leave. “Have fun.”


	165. 165

The morning was amazing.

The flight was exiting, even though he couldn’t see outside since the only windows on the jet were in the front. He sat on the bench seat along the side of the fuselage beside Steve and Sam and when they took off it was like they were going straight up in the air forever before Natasha leveled off and then peeked back to make sure Peter hadn’t broken his promise not to throw up on them.

He'd simply smiled, happily, and hugged himself.

Then they’d landed at Clint’s farm, where Cooper (and Lila) were waiting with Laura, and Peter changed out of his flight suit and into snow clothes. Then he and Cooper (and, again, _Lila_ ) spent the morning climbing the rolling hills of the property and sliding down them on sleds, laughing and enjoying themselves under the watchful eye of the adults.

About the same time that they were starting to get a little cold, despite the activities, Laura called them all in to eat lunch, and Peter was stuffed with chili, crackers, and homemade bread rolls. Then he thanked her and Clint for having him, changed back into his flight suit and was hustled back into the jet for the flight back to the compound.

“Tony just checked in with us,” Steve told Peter as they buckled into their seats. “He’s waiting.”

“The suit’s ready?” Peter asked, excited.

“It is. Nick and Bruce will be waiting for us when we land. Tony said to take you to the roof, like we did when he and Rhodes gave their demo.”

“Wow. That’ll be fun.”

And _cold_ , Steve added – mentally.

There wasn't a lot of heat in the back of the jet – the whole reason for having a flight suit in the first place – but Sam sat right up beside the boy on the way back, to keep him company, and to help keep him warm. When the jet landed with a flourish back at the compound just before two o’clock, Peter was warm, comfortable, and excitedly looking forward to seeing the new suit in action.

Sure enough, though, when the rear hatch went down, it was Nick Fury and Bruce who were standing at the bottom, waiting.

The imposing director of SHIELD smiled when he saw the boy standing next to Sam.

“Peter, my boy, that suit looks _good_ on you.”

Peter grinned, practically wriggling with happiness as he bounded down the ramp.

“Isn’t it _neat_?”

“Yes. It definitely is. Are you warm enough?”

Fury knew how cold it could be on the jet, too.

“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks.”

Nick offered the boy his hand, and they waited for those who were interested in Tony’s newest suit to join them before he walked Peter into the building, but then up the several flights of stairs that led them back up to the roof.

“Stay close to me,” Nick told him – just before _Natasha_ could say the same thing.

Peter nodded, letting go of Fury’s hand but close enough that he could have reached out and touched his leg – or Natasha’s, when she went to stand on the other side of the boy.

“This isn’t going to be as exciting as the dogfight between Rhodes and Tony,” Natasha warned Peter. “Most of what’s going to be happening will be internal between him and JARVIS.”

“I know.” JARVIS had told him that one night the last week, and Tony had reminded him of it the evening before. “It’ll still be neat.”

He could still watch Tony flying around and pretending to blow things up.

OOOOOOOO

“How does it look, JARVIS?”

_“Power levels are steady. Stabilizers are up. Systems are all green across the board.”_

Tony smiled, even though no one could see it behind the mask. He loved this part. Spending months – and sometimes even longer – to get a new suit developed, built and then ready for testing. All of it was amazing, and the best thing about being who he was. At least it used to be the best thing.

“Peter’s here?”

He’d seen the jet arrive, but had been in the middle of locking the final system checks into play and hadn’t done more than make sure it landed, safely.

_“They are on the roof.”_

“Let’s give them a show, then.”

And by them, he really meant _Peter_.

Making much less noise than he would with the suit’s predecessor, Tony walked out the entrance to the compound, shifted just a little in the metal encasing him, and then shot into the sky when the thrusters engaged. The HUD in his suit was alive with information – including showing him the small group up on the roof where they’d have the best view. Tony knew that this test wasn't designed to show much aeronautic capabilities, but that didn’t mean he wasn't planning on doing what he could to make it exciting.

As he shot by them, he rolled, twisted, and then stopped in mid-air to point a hand toward an imaginary enemy. The billionaire grinned when JARVIS’ external speakers picked up Peter’s cheer, and he double his efforts (and JARVIS’) for the next thirty minutes, checking the range of the thrusters, the weapons (only virtually, of course) and the rest of the systems. Then, with typical showmanship, he landed on the roof only a few meters away from the group – and the little boy that he loved so much.

Peter ran over as soon as he was still, and grinned up at him when Tony retracted the front of the mask.

“That was _great_!”

Tony picked him up, a little awkwardly, since the metal wasn’t that flexible.

“Yeah? You were impressed?”

The boy nodded.

“Yeah. How did it go?”

“Exactly like it was supposed to,” he assured him. “It looked good from the outside, too?”

“Like a superhero should,” Fury said, walking over with the others. “Anything new that we should be aware of?”

“The system will integrate more smoothly with SHIELD systems,” Tony said. “Twenty five percent more range, and enhanced _everything_.”

“Good to hear.”

Fury and the others were always glad to have a new Ironman suit, of course. It made missions safer for everyone, that way.

“And it’s more compact,” Peter said, looking over at Nick and then up to Tony. “Show him.”

Stark smiled at the boy’s excitement – or maybe just because Peter looked so proud. Or _maybe_ because Peter was telling him what to do. Who knew? It didn’t matter, though. He tapped a nearly invisible panel on the left armpit of the suit and the metal pieces started to retract, a plate at a time, into themselves until it was only a little bigger than Peter’s backpack.

“Much smaller than my initial suit,” he said, as Peter picked it up, holding it carefully. “And far more portable once I’m out of it.”

“He could keep it in his _car_ , or something,” Peter pointed out.

“I see that,” Nick agreed. “That’s pretty impressive tech, Tony.”

“Thanks.”

He was trying to be an example for Peter, so he didn’t brag quite as much as he _wanted_ to, instead simply accepting the accolades due him with as much humility as he could manage.

“I’m freezing,” Sam said, impressed, of course, but now ready to go inside and warm up. “I need coffee.”

“So do I,” Steve agreed.

“The demonstration isn’t quite over, though,” Tony said, smiling. “We need to get off the roof, though.”

“We’re not done?” Peter asked, as Tony and Nick led them to the door to the inside.

“Not, yet.”

“What’s left?”

As far as Peter knew, that was all the modifications of the new suit, compared to the old.

“It’s a surprise.”


	166. 166

“What kind of surprise?” the boy asked, excitedly. He was still holding the new suit, but he knew that Tony didn’t mind if he carried it. “Can it go invisible?”

“No.” Stark smiled, looking at Bruce and the others as they headed down the stairs. “ _That_ would be pretty cool, though, wouldn’t it? The same tech that works on the heliocraft would work on my suit, I bet. I wonder why I didn’t think of that… Smart.”

Peter beamed.

He knew he was smart, but he loved it when _Tony_ said it.

Tony hadn’t actually shown the others the suit that he’d made for Peter – it was only just finished, after all – so they were all interested in seeing it. And, of course, seeing _Peter’s_ reaction. Because of that they all followed the man and boy as they walked down another flight of stairs and across an atrium and then outside, once more – stopping only long enough for Tony to pick up a black, hard sided case that was propped against the wall by the door.

“What’s that?” Peter asked.

“The surprise,” Tony told him. “Trade me for my suit.”

The boy handed the suit over to Tony, who set it down where he’d left the case, and then put the hard-sided case in Peter’s hand.

“What’s in it?” Peter asked, curiously.

“Open it up and see.”

Peter didn’t have to be told, twice. He set the case on the floor by the doorway and crouched down to open it. And found a gleaming chunk of metal. A chunk that looked a lot like the one in Tony’s case.

“You made _two_ suits?” Peter asked, looking up. “That’s neat.”

“Activate it,” Tony said.

“Can I?”

Peter knew how Tony’s suit worked; he’d watched him work on it the last few months, after all – and had been shown everything. He knew how to activate the suit, and the panel on the other suit was in exactly the same place. He pulled the suit out of the case and then pressed the area, and jumped to his feet as the mechanics in the suit responded, the metal plates ejecting themselves into the correct forms until there was another Ironman suit now in front of them.

Peter frowned.

“It’s too little…”

“What do you mean?” Tony asked, feigning confusion.

“It won’t fit you,” Peter said. “It’s too small.”

“It’s too small for _me_ ,” Stark agreed. “But I didn’t build it for me.”

Peter’s eyes grew wide as he realized what Tony meant, and his jaw dropped.

“It’s for _me_?”

“I told you I’d build you a suit,” Tony reminded him, smiling. “Didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” Peter stared at the suit, and then looked at his father. “I didn’t think you _meant_ it, though.”

May had promised plenty of things without following through. She’d say that she forgot; Peter simply gave up on her keeping promises – although the boy knew Tony was much better about it.

“I meant it.” Tony tousled Peter’s hair. “It won’t fly, and there aren’t any guns or rockets or repulser blasters.”

Peter had been looking at it as Tony told him what it wouldn’t do.

“It has a _Batman_!”

He pointed at the hip of the suit. Sure enough, there was a very small, but obvious, Batman symbol etched into the metal.

Tony frowned.

“How did _that_ get there?”

“Wow…”

Peter looked flabbergasted, and his eyes were wide and happy. He threw his arms around Tony, hugging him, tightly.

“That’s pretty cool,” Sam said, admiring the suit. “Are you _allowed_ to put Batman on an Ironman suit?”

“You can if you pay a _royalty_ ,” Tony assured him, kissing Peter’s cheek and squeezing him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Peter let him go and looked up at him. “Can I put it on?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

The suit opened and the boy backed into it, wriggling with happiness as the metal locked itself around him.

_“Hello, Peter,”_ a familiar voice said. _“What do you think of your suit?”_

“I have an AI?” Peter asked, awed.

Of course, it wasn’t a brand _new_ AI, but JARVIS was perfect.

_“You can’t have a proper Ironman suit if you don’t have an AI to tell you how to use it,”_ the AI told him.

“Wow.”

“Go outside and try it out,” Tony said, turning the boy around by the shoulders of the suit so he was facing the door. “Stay in the clearing.”

Peter ran out the door, awkward in the bulky metal of the suit – although as strong as he was, the weight of the metal didn’t bother him at all.

“What can he do in it?” Natasha asked, watching as the boy immediately tripped over his own feet and tumbled to the snowy ground.

“I’m okay!” Peter assured them, not stopping to give anyone a chance to check on him.

He got to his feet, immediately, and ran off, making repulser noises as he pointed his hand at invisible enemies.

“He can’t fly off?” Fury asked, watching the boy.

Tony smiled.

“No. No rockets. _JARVIS_ is in it, though, so he does have access to the same intelligence that I would have in any of my suits. No weapons, of course, but all the cool sound effects and the heads-up display is pretty cool.”

“Nice,” Natasha said, approvingly, also watching Peter. “He’s going to have a lot of fun with that.”

“Yeah.” Stark looked incredibly pleased with himself. As well he should, really. “It turned out perfect.”

“So are you guys going to dress up in your matching suits and take on a snowman army?”

“I’m going to put my suit on and we’re going to take on the Avengers in a massive snowball fight,” he replied.

None of them mentioned that they’d spent the morning playing in the snow and were already cold. Like Peter, they had had a chance to warm up during lunch and during the flight to the compound. They’d all signed on to spend the weekend with Peter, after all, and a snowball fight wasn't outside of their skillsets.

“If you get to put yours on, you know I’m putting _mine_ on, too,” Sam said, already turning. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’m going to get my shield,” Steve told them.

“It’s getting real,” Nick said, amused.

“Are you going to play?” Natasha asked.

She didn’t need to get a suit, or a shield – although she knew that those things would add to the fun that Peter would have – and with him in a suit to protect him, they could really go all out to try and hit each other.

“No,” Fury replied. “I’ll play referee.”

><><><><<<><

“Did you have fun?”

“It was great.”

The snowball fight had been epic. Tony, Steve, and Peter had squared off against Natasha, Clint and Sam – with Bruce finally being convinced to play, although he’d been very cautious, and everyone but Peter understood completely. The new suit that Tony had built for Peter (and his own, of course) had a heater in it, so Peter was never chilled – although he did manage to get wet from snow working its way into the seams of the suit.

They’d battled for hours, until all the snow in the grassy field was either trampled or left in the little remains of hundreds of used snowballs. Sam had cheated outrageously, flying overhead and dumping armfuls of snow on Peter and Steve, while Tony countered with flight of his own, although he was careful – as always – since his flight involved thrusters and he didn’t want to burn anyone. He was adept at it by then, of course, and Natasha and Clint would occasionally find themselves bombarded by snow flurries of their own.

They’d only called a truce when the skies began to darken, and everyone started getting hungry.

“Next time we do this, we’ll have to bring Ned and Cooper,” Tony suggested, packing his suit back into its case, while Peter did the same, lingering long enough to run his fingers over the batman logo. “I bet they’d have a good time.”

Peter smiled.

“Yeah.” He hugged Tony, surprising the man, although he was also pleased, of course. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, son. I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.”

They finished packing up the suits and took them out to the car to stow into the back, and then went to the lounge to meet up with the others for dinner.

Peter sat between Natasha and Steve, and listened excitedly while Rogers went through the snowball fight like he did a mission; going over different attacks that had been used to discuss the validity of the offensive, or how they could have been deployed differently. Tony rolled his eyes, amused that even a weekend snowball fight was being used as a lesson, but he engaged in the activity. First because Peter thoroughly enjoyed the conversation, even if he didn’t understand most of it, and second because the snowball fight had been a safe way for the rest of them to see how the new suit worked in a group setting.

“Are you coming out next weekend?” Natasha asked Tony when they’d finished eating, completed their conversation about the snowball fight, and Peter was happily helping Sam and Clint pick up the dishes from their dessert to take them to the kitchen.

“It depends,” Stark said. “I promised Ned that he could introduce you to his new puppy.”

“Her name is Natasha, too,” Peter said, cheerfully. “She’s a baby, now, but she’s going to be big.”

“He named his puppy after Natasha?” Clint asked, amused. “So much for us naming our next daughter after you, Nat.”

“You _have_ to,” Romanoff said, rolling her eyes, but just as cheerful as Peter was. It had been a fun day for her, too, after all. “You lost the bet in Budapest.”

“Come out, if you can,” Fury told them, also relaxed from the good day. “But if that puppy chews on anything that she isn’t supposed to, someone’s going to get a stern talking to – and don’t get me started on if it craps in the hallways.”

Peter grinned at that, and climbed into Nick’s lap for some cuddling. They were going to be leaving soon, and he hadn’t had much chance to spend time with the gruff man that day.

“I’ll help keep an eye on her.”

“I know you will, Peter,” Nick replied, putting his arms around the boy to keep him from falling off. He ignored Bruce’s look of amazement at the action, and turned his attention to Tony, instead. “You guys could stay the night. It’s getting late.”

Tony shook his head, but he was also amused at Bruce’s reaction.

“Pepper’s expecting us, tonight. Besides, Peter’s going to Ned’s, tomorrow, to meet Natasha.”

“Can’t miss that,” Peter said, his cheek on Nick’s shoulder.

“I can understand that.” Nick hugged the boy, then tousled his hair, gruffly. “You keep your dad out of trouble, alright?”

“I will.”


	167. 167

Peter was animated when they left the compound only a short time after dinner. He’d had a fun morning, followed by an amazing surprise and an equally amazing afternoon playing with all of the avengers, who had been decked out in their superhero outfits. Even _Tony_. And even more, he’d been given an incredible suit that wasn’t really the Ironman suit but was a lot like it – _and_ it had batman on it.

He couldn’t wait to show it to Pepper.

He chatted with Tony as they drove down the service road and then out onto the highway. One minute talking about sledding, and then the next minute reminding Tony that they were going to visit at Erics that coming week so Peter could see Ned’s new puppy in person. He asked if he could take his new suit, but had had it pointed out to him that Ned might feel upstaged if Peter brought something like the suit to show him when the whole point of the visit was to show off the puppy, really.

Peter hadn’t considered that, but he conceded that it made sense. He’d show Ned the suit a different time. They also discussed other things that they could do _Sunday_ – if Pepper dint have anything already in mind for them. It was a new thing for the two to worry about. They weren’t just two, now, so Tony reminded Peter that they needed to remember that Pepper didn’t necessarily enjoy doing all of the same things that they did, and they should try to adjust accordingly.

Peter nodded his agreement, pointing out that he didn’t mind, and it was worth it to have Pepper with them. Tony agreed, of course, and they both enjoyed the discussion. The boy was _tired_ , though, from the long day, and the drive did him in – not surprising Tony at all. Try as the boy might to stay awake and keep him company, Peter was asleep when the SUV pulled into the garage at their home.

Pepper had been alerted to their return by JARVIS and was walking through the door that joined the garage to the kitchen, even as the outer door was closing. She smiled a greeting when Tony got out of the car, and he kissed her, tenderly.

“How did it go?” she asked, looking over and seeing that Peter was asleep.

_She_ wasn’t surprised, either.

“A rousing success,” he assured her, feeling smug, and about as happy as he could ever remember being. “He loved the suit, and your idea to put the Batman logo on it was a good one.”

She didn’t even say _I told you so_ , although she looked smug, too.

“I’m glad. He’ll have to try it on for me.”

“He said that he was going to. I imagine he’ll be running around the house in it all the time if we allow him to.”

“I imagine if you were eight, we’d have that problem with you, as well.”

Smiling, Tony walked around to the other door and opened it.

“He fell asleep just before we hit the county line,” he reported. “But he’s had dinner, already, and I think we’re safe to just put him to bed.”

As he was saying it, he was pulling Peter gently from the special harness that had been installed in the SUV – and would be in every vehicle Tony owned. The boy mumbled something as he was moved, but the billionaire shushed him, tenderly, pressing a kiss against his forehead.

“Let me have him,” Pepper said, reaching for Peter. “You can bring in the cases in the morning, though, right? We don’t need any of it, tonight?”

“No,” he agreed. “We’re done for the night.”

He was tired, too, after the long day, and was definitely ready for some down time. Just her and him, though, since Peter had fallen asleep and probably wouldn’t wake for a while.

“Good.” She took Peter from Tony, and the boy reacted to the change of hands by resting his cheek on her shoulder. His arms went around her, and he sighed, already almost asleep and the sound one of utter contentment as near as Tony could tell.

“Mom…”

Stark looked at her, and Pepper made a soft sound that Tony couldn’t interpret. Her hand went to the back of Peter’s head, cradling him, but her eyes went to the billionaire.

“Tony Stark,” she murmured, softly. “If you don’t ask me to marry you, someday, I’m goin-“

“Will you marry me, Pep?” he interrupted. “Marry _us_ ,” he added, putting his hand over the one she had on Peter. 

She froze, clearly surprised by the unexpected turn of events, but he was watching her eyes, and there was no uncertainty in them. The hesitation was surprise, but it wasn't doubt. Then the expression changed to happiness, and she nodded.

“Yes.”

Now he was the surprised one.

“Yes?”

“Yes,” she repeated. “I will.”

“Jesus…”

It was an exclamation of amazement, she recognized, not a ‘what the hell have I gotten myself into, now?’ type of noise. It made her smile. Tony leaned forward, with Peter still between them and caught her lips in a tender kiss.

Peter stirred, feeling the pressures on him from both sides, and Tony moved back just enough to keep the boy asleep, his eyes locked on hers.

“You’re sure?”

Her smile widened.

“Yes. You?”

“Definitely.”

“Do we wake him and tell him?”

“No.” Tony kissed her, again. “We’re going to put him to bed. Tonight will probably be the last night I really get to have you to myself for the rest of our lives. Or until he goes off to _college_ – and that isn’t going to be any time soon.”

Pepper shook her head, and she looked almost as amazed as Tony did.

“Is it weird that I love that idea?”

“Nope. I do, too. Do you want me to put him to bed?”

“I’ll do it,” she replied. “You go change.”

“Yes, dear.”

They walked into the kitchen together, but Tony headed for his bedroom while Pepper carried Peter into his room. She held him steady with one arm around him while she pulled his blankets back, and then sat him down long enough to pull his shoes off. The little boy roused, again, when she put him into his bed and this time he opened his eyes, sleepily.

“What…?”

“Shhh…” she pressed a kiss against his cheek, keeping her cheek against his for a moment. “Go to sleep, honey.

“We’re home?”

“Yes.”

He made a sleepy sound and closed his eyes, again.

“I had fun, today…” Peter told her.

“I’m glad.”

“We played snowball wars.”

Pepper didn’t want to engage him in too much conversation, knowing that it would wake him. As much as she loved him awake, though, he was sleepy and they could talk in the morning.

“Sounds like fun. Sleep, now, and tell me in the morning.”

She kissed him, again, and then pulled the blankets up, tucking them around him. Then she waited a moment, watching as he settled, and was still, once more.

_“I’ve got him,”_ JARVIS told her, his own ‘voice’ muted.

Pepper nodded, and left, closing the door behind her, silently.


	168. 168

“You look nervous…”

Tony snorted, looking over his coffee cup at Pepper, who was sitting across from him at the kitchen table.

“Do I?”

She smiled.

“Yes. A bit.”

“I _am_ ,” he admitted. “Not because I’m getting cold feet,” he added, quickly. “It’s amazing. I was nervous Christmas morning, too, and that was just as incredible, right?”

“He isn’t going to say _no_ , is he?” she asked.

“No. He’ll be happy. _Maybe_ even as happy as I am.”

“You say the nicest things.”

Before the billionaire could answer, the door to Peter’s room opened and he came out, dressed in jeans and an Avengers sweatshirt with only socks on his feet. The little boy came over to the table, eyes happy as he greeted both of them. His hair was still messy from sleeping, and his eyes were a little tired. He wasn’t all the way awake, yet, obviously.

“Hey, buddy,” Tony said, reaching out and brushing his hair out of his eyes. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good.” Peter looked at Pepper. “Did Tony show you my new Ironman/Batman suit? It’s just like _his_ new one – only it’s _little_ , for me.”

“I heard all about it,” she confirmed. “ _And_ I saw it when it was finished.”

“It’s pretty neat.”

“Yes. He showed me some pictures of you two in them, side by side.”

Peter’s eyes widened.

“He _did_?”

“JARVIS took them while we were out at the compound,” Tony told him. “Make sure you have him show them to you, later.”

“I could look, now,” Peter pointed out, excited to see them.

“You _could_ ,” his father agreed. “But we have something else we want to talk to you about, first.”

Peter climbed into his chair, putting himself on a closer level to the two of them.

“What?”

Tony hesitated, looking at Pepper to see if she wanted to tell him. She shook her head, smiling, and gestured for him to go ahead.

“Well… I asked Pepper to marry me.”

The boy’s eyes widened.

“You _did_? When?”

“Last night. When we came home.”

“Wow.” Peter looked back and forth between them, and they could both see the moment the realization hit. “You’re getting _married_?”

Tony smiled.

“Yeah, buddy. What do you think about that?”

Peter’s expression changed, again. From stunned and excited to uncertain. His lower lip disappeared between his teeth and he looked over at Pepper, a look of utter longing on his face that he couldn’t have hidden if he’d tried. He climbed off his chair and went over to Tony’s, climbing up into his lap. Pepper frowned when he put his arms around his father’s neck and whispered in his ear.

Tony hugged the boy, and kissed his temple.

“I think that’s part of the deal,” he murmured, softly – although Pepper could hear that, even if she hadn’t heard what Peter had said. “Want me to ask her?”

The little boy nodded, turning on Tony’s lap so he could look at her, but one arm around the billionaire, as if for comfort.

“Ask me what?” she asked, wondering at the uncertain – and yet, so hopeful, look on the boy’s face.

“Well… Peter was asking me if this means that you’re going to be his mom, now, when we get married.”

She nodded.

“If you’re alright with that? I was thinking it would be a pretty great idea.”

Peter nodded, unable to speak, suddenly, and his eyes filled with tears.

Pepper made a soft noise and pulled him from Tony’s lap to bring him into her own, putting her arms around him, and holding him, close while he cried.

“He did that with me, too,” Tony assured her, once more thinking back to the Christmas morning when he’d asked Peter to be his son. “He’s okay.” He reached out and rested his hand on the back of Peter’s head. “Aren’t you, son?”

The boy nodded, but he didn’t let go of Pepper, and he wasn’t able to control his tears, just yet. His little face burrowed into her neck, and Pepper looked over at Tony.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you guys?”

He smiled.

“We love you, too.” Tony stood up, and took her coffee cup. “Let me refill that for you.”

Lord knew _she_ wasn’t going to be getting up any time soon. Not with the way Peter was clinging to her.

“Thank you.”

He brought her coffee back, brushing his hand along Peter’s back as he reclaimed his chair.

“You okay, buddy?”

It was enough to make Peter turn his head to look at him, eyes red and wet, but not sad.

“Yeah.” He sniffed, mightily, and wiped his nose on Pepper’s shirt. She rolled her eyes at that, although Peter didn’t see it, and Tony smiled. “I’m _happy_.”

Stark’s expression softened.

“I know you are.”

“When are you getting married?”

“We haven’t discussed it.”

“Today?”

Tony smiled.

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Why not?”

“Weddings take planning. Some of the big ones take _years_.”

“That’s too long.”

“We won’t wait that long,” Pepper assured him.

“You could antelope,” Peter pointed out.

Both adults frowned.

“What?”

“Antelope…” he said it slowly, as if trying to help them understand what he was saying. “I saw it in a movie. These two kids ran off to get married without waiting for their moms and dads to let them.”

Pepper smiled.

“ _Elope_?”

“Antelope.”

“An antelope is a kind of a deer,” Tony told his son. “ _Eloping_ is sneaking away to get married.”

“You could do that.”

“Weddings should be special,” Stark said, amused, but not wanting Pepper to be rushed into anything. Besides, he was pretty sure they needed a wedding license, and blood tests, or whatever people did when they were getting married. Tony didn’t know, because he’d never needed to know. “Big ceremony, lots of people. Big cake.”

Peter looked up at Pepper, eyes big and mournful at the idea of having to wait to have a mom now that he was so close to it. She brushed her thumb along his cheek, wiping away the tears that had smeared there.

“How long will _that_ take?” Peter asked.

“It depends on your father,” she told him. Wiping the other cheek, too, now, and reaching for a napkin to wipe his nose. “I, personally, don’t need a fancy wedding, but Tony’s _Ironman_ , right? Something like this…? He might want a huge ceremony so everyone can watch.”

“I’d marry you here at the kitchen table,” Tony assured her. “But we’d need a license, right? And whatever else – and someone to perform the ceremony.”

Pepper smiled.

“A license, yes. The rest is all for show.” She put her arms around Peter, still cuddling him. “To get married, all a couple needs is a judge to sign off on the paperwork – and a _ring_ would be nice.”

“I _have_ a ring,” Tony told her. “I’ve had it for a couple of years, now.”

“Will it fit me?”

“It was made for you,” he replied.

Her expression softened, and she started to say something, but Peter spoke up, first.

“Pepper knows lots of judges,” he said, still holding onto her.

Tony looked at Pepper, who was looking at him, now, eyes slightly wild, but also holding no trace of uncertainty.

“What do you think, Pep?”

“I think it’s crazy…”

“Probably. But I’ve done crazy things before.”

He’d even taken her along with him a few times – although she hadn’t been happy about any of them.

“I could call James.,” she said, finally. “And see if he’s doing anything this afternoon.”


	169. 169

It was a very small and extremely select group that met in the small office only a few hours later.

The judge was the last to arrive, since he’d been at church when Pepper had called him, but that gave the others a chance to get there, as well. An intern for the judge let Tony, Pepper and Peter into the little room, and had made herself scarce, telling them that she’d watch for any other arrivals and send them their direction. Peter looked around the office, remembering it from Christmas, when he and Tony had gone there to make his adoption complete.

He sat down in one of the chairs, but was too excited to sit still.

“Are you nervous?” he asked Tony.

The billionaire was leaning his hip against the desk, allowing Pepper to take the other chair in the room. He was _also_ unable to stay still, really.

“No, buddy,” he assured the boy. “I’m not nervous. Just happy.”

“Me, too,” Peter said. “I’ve never _been_ to a wedding, before.”

“Neither have I,” Stark said.

“Did you go to one, before?” Peter asked Pepper.

She nodded.

“It’s been a while, though – and it wasn’t _mine_.”

“I don’t think this will be like you might have seen on TV or in the movies,” Tony told the boy. “We’re going about it a different way than the traditional ones usually are.”

“It’s going to be great.”

There was a motion at the entrance, and Rhodey walked into the room. The man smiled, broadly, when he saw the others.

“Are you freaking _kidding_ me…?” he asked, offering Tony his hand. “You asked her to marry you?”

“I _had_ to,” Tony replied. “Otherwise, she might have asked _Peter_ to marry her – and then where would I have been?”

Rhodes snorted, amused, and kissed Pepper’s cheek, then went over and ruffled Peter’s hair.

“Hey, Cheese Pizza. What’s going on?”

“Tony and Pepper are getting married. They’re anteloping, and Pepper’s going to be my mom.”

The man couldn’t help but smile at just how excited Peter was – and didn’t even bother to ask what he was talking about when he said anteloping.

“That’s what I heard.” He decided that the boy was clearly pleased with the idea. “Imagine that; Tony Stark, married with a kid – and as far as I can tell, hell never even froze over like he said it would.”

Stark rolled his eyes, and Pepper smiled. Peter, however, looked confused. Before he could say anything, though, there were more arrivals. Steve, Nick, Happy, Bruce and Sam walked through the door, and the little office was a lot smaller, suddenly.

“Where’s Romanoff?” Tony asked, smiling a relieved greeting to all of them, but especially to _Happy_ , who walked over and handed him a small velvet box. “She’s coming, right?”

“She drove,” Steve replied. “And is now looking for a parking spot.”

“It’s _Sunday_. How hard can it be?”

“There’s some kind of ice parade going on,” came Natasha’s voice, responding to the question even as she walked into the room. She went over to Peter and picked him up, hugging him close. “So I had to park out in the middle of nowhere. Hey, sweetheart,” she added, smiling at the boy in her arms. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at Pepper.

“Last chance to escape,” she said with a smirk. “I’ll hold Tony down while you make a run for it.”

Pepper chuckled.

“Thanks. I’m good, though.”

“So how is this going to work?” Sam asked. “No ceremony? Just papers signed?”

“That’s all we technically _need_ ,” Pepper confirmed. “But we did need-“

“Witnesses,” Tony said. “You guys are here to make sure Pepper can’t tell the press that it didn’t happen.”

The adults smiled at that, but Peter hesitated.

“Can she do that?”

“I’d never do that,” Pepper assured the boy. “I love Tony and you too much to even think about it.”

That made him smile, and he put his cheek on Natasha’s shoulder.

Disaster averted, Rhodes looked at Tony.

“Are you going on a honeymoon, then? Need me to take Peter for a while?”

“We _will_ have a honeymoon,” Tony confirmed. “But not yet. Peter’s in school and there are some meetings that can’t be skipped – or pushed back. We’ll hold off on the official honeymoon until we have more time to plan things around it.”

“ _And_ we might just take him with us,” Pepper added.

Before she could say anything else, though, there was yet another commotion at the door, and this time it was the judge who walked into the office. Wearing similar clothing to what he’d been wearing the day he’d made Tony a father, he nodded a greeting to the Avengers, not at all overwhelmed, despite having them in his office. Then he looked at Pepper.

“Miss Potts…”

She smiled.

“Good morning, James.”

“You know… I didn’t become a judge just so you’d have a handy way to avoid the normal waiting times.”

Her smile widened.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

He snorted, clearly relaxed and cheerful.

“So you _really_ want to get married?” he asked. “You’re not punking me, or something?”

“No. We do.”

“Vegas is too far away,” Tony added, unable to help himself.

“You’re not _pregnant_ , are you?” the judge asked, raising an eyebrow at Pepper.

Tony’s eyes widened, but Pepper snorted, obviously amused.

“No. We just don’t want to have a spectacle.”

“Tony Stark marrying his CEO and settling down? Yeah, I can see how that would be a spectacle. You understand we won’t be able to keep it a secret very long, right? Marriage licenses are public – like adoption applications – but _unlike_ adoption applications, every news agency has someone on staff to constantly watch for anything interesting coming through. This will qualify, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

The judge nodded, and looked at Peter, who was still in Natasha’s arms, but was watching the exchange.

“Hey, Peter.”

The boy wasn’t so shy, this time. He remembered the man, clearly.

“Hi.”

“Is Tony taking good care of you?”

Peter smiled.

“Yeah. He made me an Ironman suit – only it has _batman_ on it, too, and I wore it, yesterday.”

“Wow. And you’re good with him marrying Pepper?”

“Yeah. She lives with us, now.” He was excited. “They’re doing it and everything.”

Natasha clapped her hand over Peter’s mouth, but the motion was accompanied by a snort of amusement that she couldn’t hide. Tony rolled his eyes, a slightly pained look crossing his features as the others all had their own various reactions to the boy’s comment.

Rhymes smirked, looking at Pepper, whose ears were turning pink.

“Oh, how I love young children,” the judge told them. He reached out and ruffled Peter’s hair, and then moved to go behind his desk and sit down, reaching for the folder his clerk had put on his desk before she’d left. “Pepper? You’re sure you want to get married? No one is forcing you?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she replied.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Absolutely.”

The man looked through the papers, and pulled one out, turning it so it was facing away from him and toward Tony and Pepper.

“I need signatures, then.”

Tony went first, taking a pen from his pocket and signing his name, neatly. Then he handed the pen to Pepper, his expressive eyes filled with love for her, even in such a mundane setting. She smiled and took it, signing her name next to his and then dating it for both of them.

The judge looked at the Avengers.

“Now we need two witnesses.”

“I’m one,” Fury said, stepping up and taking the pen from Pepper and signing his name where the man indicated.

“And me,” Steve said, also stepping forward.

Natasha had her hands filled with Peter, after all – otherwise she might have volunteered. The people in the room watched as Steve signed his name, as well, and then handed the pen back to the judge.

“Well, then, it’s official,” Rhymes told them, his gaze on Pepper and Tony. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Tony smiled, and Rhodey slapped him on the back.

“Congratulations.”

There were assorted handshakes and hugs and more slaps on the back among the people in the room.

“Do you have rings?” Rhyme asked. “If you do, you can start wearing them, now.”

Tony reached for Pepper’s hand, the ring that he’d picked out and purchased for her in the other. He smiled at her when he slid it onto her finger.

“It was _supposed_ to be an engagement ring,” he told her. “We’ll go shopping for wedding rings and do it proper.”

She smiled, and kissed him, lost in just him for a moment – despite the others in the room.

“It’s beautiful.”

It was, too. Gold with a diamond that caught the light in the room and refracted it into a million tiny lights that sparkled so prettily. She didn’t wear a lot of jewelry, but this was already her favorite.

“So are you.”

There was silence among the others, a chance to allow them that moment of privacy, and then Nick cleared his throat.

“This definitely calls for some kind of celebration,” he told them. “Let’s head out.”

“Where are we going?” Stark asked.

“To your place,” was the reply. “The reception should be set up, by now.”

“The reception?” Pepper echoed.

“Can’t have a marriage without a reception,” Fury pointed out. “When Tony called to tell us where we needed to be – and _why_ – I had a few people head to your place to get things ready. If they did it right, there’ll even be a cake, of sorts.”

Peter looked impressed. He still had his arm around Natasha, but he’d watched everything as it unfolded, holding his breath when the papers were signed. Peter knew how important signatures were, after all. That was what had made him Tony’s son, right?

“What kind of cake?” the boy asked.

“I didn’t bake it,” Nick told him, tapping his nose and smiling when Peter did. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

Pepper smiled, too. She looked at the judge.

“James? Would you like to come celebrate with us?”

“Can’t,” was the reply. “My wife expects me at home.” He smiled. “If you decide to actually have a real wedding, however, I expect to be invited.”

“Done,” Tony told him, offering his hand. “Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome.” The man hugged Pepper, and then nodded to the others. “Now, get out of my office so I can go home.”


	170. 170

They walked out into the cold, sunny, day as a group and Natasha set Peter on his feet.

“I’m going to go get the car,” she told the others.

“Can I come?” Peter asked, hopefully.

Romanoff looked at Tony, who shrugged his acceptance of the plan, and she nodded.

“Of course.”

The two left and the rest of them stood on the steps at the entrance to the courthouse.

“I wasn’t kidding about taking him,” Rhodes told his friend. “If you guys want to get away for a few days – or next weekend, or something – let me know, and he can come hang out with me.”

“Or with us, for that matter,” Fury said, adding in his own offer.

“We might take you up on that,” Tony replied, taking Pepper’s hand. “ _Eventually_. But not this week – and not next weekend. We already have plans set up to meet Ned’s new puppy.”

“He got a _puppy_?” Rhodes asked. “Very cool.”

“He _did_ ,” Pepper told them. “She’s adorable.”

“A puppy and parents all in the same month,” Rhodey said. “He’s a lucky kid.”

“So is Peter,” Steve added, smiling at the two. “A mom to go with his dad? I’m really happy for you guys.”

They chatted for a few minutes, until Natasha drove up in one of the large SUVs that were so common out in the compound. Peter was buckled in the backseat, and he didn’t make a move to get out when Romanoff did.

“Peter’s going to ride with us,” she said to Tony and Pepper. “We’re going to stop and get you guys a wedding gift on our way back to your place.”

“You don’t need to get us a gift,” Pepper protested.

“We _do_ ,” Romanoff told them both. “Don’t expect anything too exciting,” she cautioned them. “Not with an hour’s notice of the wedding.”

Tony smiled.

“We’ll meet you back at the house, then.”

There wasn’t any sense in arguing, after all.

“Right.”

There was a lot more slapping of shoulders, and the avengers piled into the SUV, and Rhodes headed for his car, as well, telling them he was going to stop somewhere and get a wedding gift, also. Tony and Pepper watched them all leave, and then he smiled, putting an arm around her.

“So, _wife_ …” he said. “How does it feel to be married?”

“I’m still a little shocked,” Pepper admitted.

“But no regrets?”

“None.” She turned and put her arms around him, hugging him and resting her cheek against his shoulder. “We have a little time before we need to be home, _husband_ ,” she told him. “Why don’t we go find you a ring, too?”

His smile broadened.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

><><><><><

As parties went, it was fairly low key – especially for Tony Stark and even for the Avengers as a whole.

There was a catered meal being prepared when they all arrived – and Tony and Pepper only arrived home a few minutes before Steve drove the SUV through the front gate. Rhodey was waiting, having let himself into the house with some assistance from JARVIS, of course, and the caterers were in the kitchen, cooking, mixing, and setting everything up. The place smelled amazing, and Rhodes was on the sofa, nibbling on a pepperoni stick when the newlyweds walked into the kitchen from the garage entrance.

“What took you so long?” he asked.

“We had a few stops to make on the way,” Tony replied, taking Pepper’s jacket and hanging it before hanging his own. “What are you eating?”

“Snack,” was the immediate answer, as he held up the pepperoni stick for them to see, but didn’t turn his attention to the TV, where there was some kind of nature documentary being played. “The others are on their way.”

He kept track of them through the mutual communications, of course, but this time it had been JARVIS who made him aware of where everyone was.

“Good.”

Pepper had gone into the kitchen to introduce herself to the caterers – and to make sure that nothing was going to have strawberries in it – or at least, so she would know what did, if there was. She returned to find Tony and Rhodey on the sofa, munching on snacks and watching the program.

“What are you watching?” she asked, frowning. “Is that a _spider_?”

“It’s a _wolf_ spider,” Rhodes replied. “Tony told me that’s what JARVIS thinks bit Peter.”

She, of course, already knew that.

“So you’re watching this because…?”

“Well… just to see what a wolf spider _does_ , I guess,” he said, shrugging. “I mean, if it’s a part of your boy, then we should know something about it, right?”

“Spiders are creepy…” she told him. “And, for your information, Peter is afraid of them.”

“He is? How do you know that?”

“Because I was researching them the other day – for the same reason – and when he came to see what I was watching, he told me.”

“Does he know what JARVIS knows?”

“No,” Tony answered. “And we probably won’t really discuss it with him until he’s a little older.”

Before he could explain why he thought they should wait, JARVIS announced the others pulling up to the front, and Tony got up to go meet them. Pepper kicked her shoes off and settled beside Rhodes, but he turned the channel to a basketball game, which they watched in comfortable silence. A few minutes later, there was a small wave of people entering the house, and a very cheerful Peter came over to greet her.

She smiled at how happy he looked.

“Hey, handsome. Did you have a good drive?”

“Yeah.” He climbed into her lap and pressed a cold nose against her neck when he hugged her. “We got you a present.”

She pretended to be surprised.

“You did? What is it?”

The boy shook his head.

“I’m not supposed to tell you.”

“We got _you_ something, too,” Pepper told him.

His eyes widened.

“You did? What?”

Pepper shook her head.

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”

Peter groaned, theatrically, and flopped onto his back, draping across her lap.

“Awwww… can I have a hint?”

“It’s not edible.”

“Is it _chocolate_ _chips_?”

She rolled her eyes, and tickled his stomach – which made him giggle and squirm.

“Chocolate is _edible_ ,” she reminded him. “Can I have a hint about what you got us?”

“You can come open it,” Nick said, leaning over the back of the sofa and picking Peter up, to free her from the living blanket. “We’ll open it, now, and save any anticipation.”

By the time Pepper and Rhodes reached the dining room table, there was a beautifully decorated box sitting in the middle of it, and all of the others were standing, or sitting, around the table waiting. Tony beckoned for her to come stand beside him, and he put an arm around her when she did. It was clear he was curious what was in the box, though, and Peter was beaming at them from his position in Nick’s lap.

“Open it,” the boy told them, excitedly.

Tony gestured for Pepper to do the honors, and she unwrapped the box, revealing a large toaster oven. Amused, because it was such a mundane present, and one of those gifts that no one would ever have thought to give someone as extraordinary as Tony was, she didn’t have to pretend to like it.

“Wow…”

“It’s a toaster oven,” Peter said, helpfully. “It makes _toast_.”

“And a bunch of other things,” Nick added, one arm around Peter to keep him from falling, while the other hand pointed out all the various dishes that could be cooked – according to the pictures on the box. “Safely and conveniently,” he added, obviously amused.

“Peter picked it out,” Natasha told them.

Of course.

“It’s perfect, son,” Tony said, leaning down to kiss the top of the boy’s head. “Just what we need around here, right?”

“Yeah.”

He looked so happy that it really could have been a burning bag of shit and Tony would have loved it.

“Happy wedding day,” Steve told them. “If you decide to have an actual ceremony for the rest of the world to see, give us a little more warning.”

“We’ll do that,” Pepper assured them. “We stopped and picked out Tony a wedding band,” she added, gesturing to her husband’s hand, which Tony held up to show them.

It was made of black metal and gleamed dully in the light in the room. Nothing flashy, but definitely high quality.

“We got something for you, too, buddy,” Stark said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a box, which he handed to Peter.

“Wow.” The boy worried open the fine wrapping paper, and discovered a velvet box. It was black and fancy, and when he opened it, he and the others found that it contained a ring. “It looks like yours,” Peter said, plucking it out of the box.

“Because it’s exactly like mine,” Tony agreed. “We didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“That’s nice…” Rhodey said, smiling at how excited Peter looked. “Good thinking.”

“Thank you,” Peter said, putting the ring on his finger and admiring the fit.

“He’ll grow out of it a lot sooner than you will,” Natasha told Tony.

The billionaire shrugged, smiling at just how pleased he looked with the gift. It had been Pepper’s idea, and it was a brilliant one.

“When he does, he can put it in his safe with the other treasures,” Tony said.

Peter twisted around in Nick’s lap so he could show the ring to the others, and the SHIELD director winced when he was stabbed with the boy’s bony knees.

“Isn’t it neat?” Peter asked, excitedly.

“It’s great.”

Tony picked up the toaster oven, looking at the pictures on the box. Pepper smiled.

“New toy to play with.”

He shrugged, watching as Peter hopped off Nick’s lap and then ran off to show the ring to the caterers.

“At least it doesn’t burn Batman onto the food.”

“True.” He looked at the kitchen, but the caterers had all of the counters and the island in use, just then. The good-natured workers had all stopped what they were doing, though, to admire Peter’s new ring. “We’ll set it up, later.”

She nodded her agreement, and took his hand.

“Why don’t we all go into the game room?” she suggested to them.

That would keep them out of the way of the caterers, and there was more to do for them, there.

“Sounds like a plan,” Nick said, getting up. “Peter? Let’s go play giant JENGA.”

“Yay!”


	171. 171

It was much later before they ever had a chance to unpack the toaster oven and find a spot on the counter for it.

The others had left after a fun afternoon of celebration. The catered meal had been splendid, the game room saw plenty of activity, and the newly married couple had spent a lot of time holding hands while they spent time with their friends. There were a few hugs when everyone said their goodbyes, and many reminders that they were all available for baby-sitting if Tony and Pepper changed their minds about getting away for a few days.

“Well, _wife_ ,” Tony said, smiling as they closed the door. “That was a hell of a day, wasn’t it?”

She nodded.

“That it was – _husband_.”

“Can we watch a movie?” Peter asked, looking up at them, but obviously happy at the way they had addressed each other.

“You need a _bath_ ,” Tony reminded the boy. “Tomorrow’s a school day.”

“After that?”

Tony looked at Pepper.

“Well?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Peter made a happy noise and rushed to his room, and Tony took Pepper’s hand and led her over to the sofa. She smiled when he pulled her down onto his lap, and kissed her, soundly.

“He hasn’t called you mom, yet…” he said, also smiling.

“How long did it take him to call you dad? A week or so, right?”

“Christmas day to New Year’s eve, yes.”

“Then I have time.”

“It isn’t a _contest_ …”

She snorted, resting her cheek against his for just a moment, and enjoying the silence after such a busy and eventful day.

“Don’t even pretend with me, Tony Stark…” Pepper told him. “I know _everything_ is a contest to you.”

He smirked, kissing her ear.

“Maybe.”

“We could open the toaster oven,” she said. “He’s probably going to want to try it out, sometime soon.”

“We’ll wait for him.” Tony hugged her close for a moment. “I’m going to go take a shower and get into something more comfortable.”

“Good idea.”

“Are you coming?”

“No.” she _did_ allow herself to slide out of his lap and reached for her tablet. “I’m going to make sure I have everything ready for tomorrow. And maybe see if anyone has figured out what we’ve done, yet.”

“JARVIS will tell us when the story breaks,” he said, standing up. “I’m tempted to keep Peter home from school, tomorrow, though – just in case things get crazy.”

“He doesn’t have anything going on that he can’t miss,” she agreed. Pepper made it a point to know what Peter was doing in his classes, now, and had since she’d moved in with the two. “Will you keep him with us at the tower?”

“You’re okay with that?”

Pepper nodded.

“Of course.”

Tony leaned over the back of the couch and kissed her, again.

“I love you.”

She smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek.

“I love you, too.”

><><><><><>

Both of them were on the sofa when Peter finally came out of his bedroom. He was still damp from his bath and wearing Ironman pajamas. The fire was going in the fireplace and while the giant display above it was on, Tony and Pepper were both looking at their tablets. Pepper finishing the notes for her meeting, and Tony checking in on the progress of the suit that was still in development. The boy moved around the sofa, and stopped to look at them. Tony noticed that he was still wearing the ring that he’d been given.

“How was the bath?”

Peter smiled, leaning on Tony’s knee.

“Wet.”

Stark chuckled, amused.

“Then you must have done it correctly.” He shifted, moving enough to make a Peter-sized space between himself and Pepper. “Come on, buddy.”

The boy scrambled up into the space, and Tony and Pepper both turned toward him, slightly, putting their tablets aside.

“What are we going to watch?”

“Cartoon, I think,” Tony replied. “But we want to talk to you, first.”

“About what?”

“We’re worried that things might get a little crazy at your school when the word gets out that Pepper and I got married, today.”

“Oh.” He hesitated. “What do you want me to do? Keep it a secret?”

Pepper smiled, brushing her fingers through his damp hair.

“It _can’t_ be kept a secret, honey. And we wouldn’t ask you to, for something like this. We were thinking that it might be a good idea to keep you out of school, though. Just until we see how things go.”

“Oh.”

“Just until we know that there isn’t any concern about the press going crazy and trying to get to you for an exclusive,” Tony said. “We’ll give it a day or two to let the initial furor to die down and see what happens.”

“What do I do?”

He smiled, loving everything about the boy sitting between him and Pepper.

“Nothing, buddy. Once the story breaks, Pepper and I will make a confirming announcement, we’ll answer a few questions and show them the rings. It could happen as early as tomorrow, and if it _does_ , we don’t want you caught up in the shitstorm that is almost certainly going to follow.”

“Tony…”

Stark smiled at the reprimand in Pepper’s tone, not at all repentant. He was a lot better than he’d been, but he was still Tony Stark. Only now he was a father – and a _husband_ – and he was supposed to be a better example.

“We’re going to take you with us to the tower,” he said. “You can either hang out with me, or spend the day in daycare, if you’d rather.”

Peter nodded. He was always excited to be in Tony’s workshop. Missing school wasn’t a big deal to him, since he knew he could catch up as long as he didn’t miss too much. He’d caught up when they’d gone to Disney, after all – and that had been a whole week.

“Okay.”

“It won’t be long,” Pepper promised.

“I’m okay,” the little boy assured her. “I’m glad you’re married.”

It was worth whatever he had to do.

“So are we, buddy,” Tony replied. He smiled over at Pepper. “Anything to add?”

“About keeping him home from school?” she asked, smiling, as well. “Or the happy to be married thing?”

He put his arm around Peter, mainly so he could put his hand on her arm, too.

“Either.”

“No.”

“Peter?” Tony brushed the boy’s curls back from his forehead, smiling down at him. “You’re good?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll make sure SHIELD knows so they can adjust however they need, then. JARVIS? Find us a good movie.”

“Yes, sir.”

The lights went down and the fireplace lowered a little before the display came on. Peter nestled against Pepper’s side with a happy sigh, and he wriggled just a little when she put her arm around him. Tony watched them, together, and put his arm around Pepper, pulling her closer to him – and to Peter. He didn’t say anything, though, and neither did she.

They didn’t need to.

><>><><><><>

When the movie ended, Pepper was surprised to see that Peter was still awake but _Tony_ was asleep, his day having caught up to him. He was leaning sideways, a fat pillow supporting him, even though his arm was still around Peter.

“Do we wake him up?” Peter whispered.

“Not yet.” She smiled and very carefully detached herself from where Tony’s hand was resting on her, and then she gestured for Peter to do the same. “Come on, looks like I get to tuck you in, tonight.”

Peter smiled, too, and got off the couch, just as quietly.

“You don’t mind?” he asked.

She picked him up, holding him easily, and hugging him.

“That’s part of the mom thing, right?” Peter buried his face into her neck, sniffing, and Pepper made a soft noise. “Happy tears?” she asked as she carried him to his bedroom.

“Yeah.” His eyes were bright when he looked up at her after she settled him in his spot on the lower bunk. “The _happiest_.”

She pulled the blankets up over him, tucking them in.

“I love you, Peter Stark.”

“I love you, too,” he said, a tear trickling down his cheek to drop off his nose. “Mom…”

Pepper smiled, her eyes soft and warm.

“Do you want to negotiate for a story?” she asked. “Or are you willing to settle for just one long one?”

“Just a long one,” he said, hugging himself under the blankets when she settled next to him. “But with a happy ending.”

“A _long_ one, huh…?”

“I don’t have school, tomorrow,” he reminded her.

She nodded.

“Good point.” Pepper brushed his wet cheek with her thumb. “There once was a woman named Virginia,” she said. “Who went to school to learn how to run businesses… She graduated, and went to the big city, where she found a job working at a large company. And she was pretty good at it…”

Peter smiled, and closed his eyes.

“Yeah? Then what happened?” he asked, feeling warm and loved and feeling his long, exciting, day start to catch up with him.

“She met a man. A handsome man with a huge chip on his shoulder…”

“A _Dorito_?”

She shook her head, snorting softly, amused.

“Wrong kind of chip, sweetheart. But he was arrogant, and she knew immediately that he was going to be a _lot_ of trouble…”

Peter sighed, almost asleep but trying very hard to stay awake and hear what happened.

“Was he?”

“Of course.” Pepper brushed his cheek. “Virginia was very smart, and usually right… he had a few good qualities, though,” she added in a whisper. “But they were buried pretty deep down. So deep that he didn’t even know they were there…”

“Oh…”

Peter drifted off, and she smiled, amazed at the little person that was so very important to her.

“And then a lot of things happened, and she lived happily ever after,” she concluded in a whisper.

_“There are a few parts missing,”_ JARVIS pointed out, just as softly, as Pepper eased out of Peter’s bed.

She smiled, something that she found herself doing a lot of the last many months, now. She went to the door and turned off the light.

“That’s a tale for a different day,” she replied. “When he’s a little _older_.”

She left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

“ _Indeed_ ,” JARVIS said, even though she didn’t hear him.

The AI turned the lights up, nominally, to keep it from being completely dark in the room since he’d noticed the boy slept better when it wasn’t so dark. Then he resumed his watchful guard over the boy, while monitoring everything else going on around him.

But if an AI could feel smug and self-satisfied, JARVIS was definitely doing it.

><><>><>

“Hey…”

Tony woke with a start, despite the gentle tone. He looked around, only to find Pepper smiling, gently, down at him. A quick glance told him that Peter wasn’t around, and that the movie was certainly over, since the display was off and the lights were on.

“I fell asleep?”

She nodded.

“You did.”

“Peter’s alright?”

“I just put him to bed. He’s fine.” Pepper kissed him, sliding into his lap in an unspoken request to be held, and Tony was plenty awake, now, that he complied. “He made it through the movie, but fell asleep during the story.”

“Sounds about right.” Tony nuzzled her neck, suddenly feeling amorous. Why not? It was his wedding night, right? “Is he _soundly_ asleep?” he asked.

She made a noise of agreement, lifting her chin to allow him access to her sensitive skin.

“I think we’re safe, yes…”

“JARVIS will let us know if that changes,” he reminded her. His hand slid along her leg. “Let’s go to bed, Pep,” he whispered.

“Good idea.”


	172. 172

The news broke even sooner than Pepper or Tony expected.

By the time the three of them had settled at the breakfast table, with Peter looking though the user guide for the new toaster oven, and Pepper watching as Tony served them all oatmeal with varying accompanying side dishes, JARVIS announced that the first rumors were hitting the world wide web, and someone had broken the story that Tony Stark had filed a marriage license over the weekend.

Pepper shook her head, unable to help but be amazed, even though she knew – better than many – just how quickly rumors could spread through the network of news groups and independent reporters.

“I’m not going to get anything done, today.”

“Why not?” Peter asked, munching on a piece of toast with batman’s symbol burned into it.

“Because I’m going to be fielding questions from the press, nonstop.”

“About you being married?”

“Right.”

“That’s what your secretaries and press people are for, Pep,” Tony reminded her. “They can take all the calls.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” she replied. “You know that,”

He did.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she assured him. “We’re going to have to make an official statement – the sooner the better.”

“Ugh.”

Peter giggled at the sound, not looking at all chastised when Tony scowled at him.

“I could help, too,” the boy offered.

“We’re going to keep you as far from the press as we can,” his father told him. “Which is the whole point of taking you to the tower instead of letting you go to school.”

_“A wise decision,”_ JARVIS said, speaking up. “ _Several reporters are already making an appearance at Peter’s school.”_

“SHIELD knows?” Pepper asked.

“If they don’t, yet, they will.” He smiled. “Basically, the press are wasting time hanging out looking for you, since you’ll be at the tower, and if we do it right, no one will even know.”

><><><><><

By the time they drove up to the parking garage at the tower, the press were _there_ , as well. A crowd of reporters, camera people, vans and photographers of all kinds were waiting for them.

“Wow.”

Peter was amazed.

“I should just run them all over,” Stark muttered, darkly, when the boldest of the group moved to stand between the car and the entrance to the garage, forcing them to stop or cause bloodshed.

“You can’t do that,” Peter pointed out from his spot in the backseat of the SUV. His windows were darkly tinted so while he could see out, none of the press of people could actually see him. Although Tony and Pepper had both been seen through the windshield when they’d pulled up. “You might hurt someone.”

Tony scowled half-heartedly, the gesture making Pepper smile – although she double-checked the door locks before Tony slowed the car. Right as a small security force moved in from the side, forcing those people who were blocking the way to move aside. Tony wasn't the only one to recognize that the people were SHIELD agents, for the most part.

Stark made a gesture of thanks as he drove in, and breathed a slight sigh of relief when the garage door closed behind the car.

“What a pain in the ass…”

“It’s _exciting_ ,” Peter said, looking back, as if hoping to see them rushing through the side door.

Pepper smiled at the way Tony rolled his eyes, resting her hand on her husband’s leg, amused.

“He’s young.”

They parked and rode the elevator to the executive floor, bypassing the lobby completely, and noticing the extra security everywhere. Maria Hill was waiting for them as they exited the elevator.

“Hi, Maria,” Peter said, running over to her – too excited to hold himself to the same pace as Pepper and Tony.

She greeted him with a smile.

“Hey, Peter. Exciting weekend, huh?”

“Yeah. I’m not going to school, today.”

Obviously. Otherwise she’d have picked him up, right? She didn’t state the obvious, instead ruffling his hair and looking at Tony and Pepper.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Tony said, smiling.

Maria turned to Pepper.

“Mrs. Stark? Or Stark-Potts? Or Potts?”

Now it was Pepper who smiled.

“For now, Potts. As soon as I have a chance to change it, conveniently, it’ll be Stark.”

Peter and Tony both looked pleased at the prospect, Maria noticed.

“Is Peter going to daycare, today?” she asked. “Or doing something else?”

They’d already discussed that, and Peter had pointed out that he’d be fine going to daycare – which would free Tony and Pepper both up to do whatever they needed to during that day – and maybe the next.

“I’m doing _daycare_ ,” the boy told her, cheerfully. “What are _you_ going to do, today?”

Normally, her job was to follow him around, after all. It wasn’t necessary if he was in the security of daycare. The place was normally well-guarded. If Peter was going to be there, that day, then it would be tighter than Fort Knox.

“I’m going to act as liaison for SHIELD,” she replied. She smirked. “Your dad and Mrs. Stark, here, have opened up a can of worms. It’s going to be an interesting day.”

Tony didn’t look too concerned, but Pepper did.

“You don’t think anyone will try to sneak in, do you?”

“I think they’d be foolish to _try_ ,” was the confident answer. “We’re monitoring everyone who comes in and out of the building – and credentials have to match.”

“No one’s going to get by JARVIS, Pep,” Tony added. “Like Maria said, they’d be out of their minds to try – especially today.”

“I suppose.” She smiled down at Peter. “We’ll come and get you for lunch, alright?”

The boy nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll take him to daycare,” Tony said, a hand resting lightly on Peter’s bony shoulder. “Then I’ll come meet you in your office and you can tell me what we’re going to do about everything.”

Meaning, he was more than willing to follow whatever lead she wanted. That didn’t have anything to do with them being married. Tony had been doing what Pepper told him for a long time, now, after all.

The two women headed one direction, and Tony and Peter moved back toward the elevator.

“Do you need anything?” he asked Peter as they got in and the door closed.

Peter shook his head, his fingers twisting the ring on his finger.

“No. I’m okay.”

“Good.” Peter had only done all day daycare once or twice, and while Tony knew there would be plenty to keep him occupied, he still felt a little like he was abandoning him. “You know that you can call me if you need to – or if you want to,” he added.

The boy smiled.

“Yeah.”

><><>><><><>

The press conference was hastily set up, but the people allowed into the building were carefully screened.

Not so much because anyone really expected someone would be trying to take advantage of the excitement of the wedding announcement to make a play on Tony – or on Peter, or even Pepper – but because SHIELD was always careful. As was JARVIS. The AI wasn't infallible, of course, but it was a learning being and had been around a long time, now, and was quantum enabled enough that he could be everywhere at once – as long as there was a video camera.

And New York was one of the most surveilled cities in the world. Everyone knew that.

Tony and Pepper stood at the podium, side by side, her diamond ring sparkling artfully in the light of the room, both natural and artificial. They watched as the reporters and photographers gathered, taking seats under the vigilant gazes of security people, and when the last was seated, Tony read a statement that Pepper had written.

“Yesterday, as you all know, Pepper, here, and I filed for – and were _granted_ – a marriage license. We didn’t see any reason to wait, and were married in a very small ceremony. We have no intention of having any other ceremony – now, or in the future. One marriage is enough for both of us.”

He was watching the people in front of them, well aware from the tension in the room that they all were burning to ask questions. Pepper had suggested they allow a few, and Tony had grumbled, more out of habit than anything, but had agreed. He turned to her, resting his hand over hers on the podium, where they could all see it – and several cameras went off.

“We’ll take a few questions,” Pepper told them.

“Pepper Potts?” one man asked. “Or Pepper Stark?”

“Get used to Stark,” she replied.

“Was Peter your best man?” a woman asked Tony.

“We didn’t have that kind of ceremony,” Tony said.

“Was Peter there?”

Pepper fielded that one.

“Of course.”

“Where is he, now?”

“He’s here.”

“Is he happy with your choice?”

Tony didn’t even get annoyed by the question.

“He’s ecstatic.”

“Where’s the honeymoon?”

“You’re looking at it.”

“Who popped the question?”

The list of questions went on and on, but since there wasn’t anything too personal – the press were learning that Tony was a lot more cooperative if they were polite, and were adjusting accordingly – Tony and Pepper answered far more than they’d intended. Eventually, though, Tony held a hand up to stop the question about the flavor of the cake. Some things weren’t important enough to be included in a news conference.

“That’s it, folks. Just because we’re married, it doesn’t mean that we don’t have a busy day.”

“When are you going to get Peter a puppy?” one of the reporters asked, hoping for a final family friendly soundbite.

“When he _asks_ for one.”

The SHIELD people started ushering the reporters out of the room, and Pepper smiled as the last one left.

“That went well.”

“Yeah.”

Pepper’s aid walked up, though, carrying a cell and wearing a concerned expression.

“What is it?” Pepper asked.

“Peter’s daycare is calling for you, or Mr. Stark. There’s a problem.”


	173. 173

There were three people sitting at a small table when Tony and Pepper came rushing into the room. Peter was there, eyes red and wet, and his little face scared. With him was the daycare director Ella, and an older man that Tony didn’t recognize. He walked over and brushed his hand against Peter’s hair, looking down at him – mainly checking for blood – but he didn’t see any.

“What’s going on?”

“My finger hurts,” Peter told him, mournfully, holding it up so Tony and Pepper could see.

Sure enough, the one with the ring on it was swollen and red, and Tony thought that maybe he did see a smearing of blood. He caught that little hand to get a closer look, kneeling down next to his son.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. It just _hurts_.”

“It looks like a severe allergic reaction,” the older man said. “He said he put it on, yesterday, so that would be about right – I’m surprised it didn’t hurt, _sooner_ , really.”

Tony decided the man was the on-staff doctor – kept around in case there were any medical emergencies. Not, necessarily, for the kids at the daycare, of course. There were a lot of R&D labs, after all, and accidents definitely could – and _did_ – happen.

“He’s allergic to metal?” Tony asked, surprised. “He wore my watch, though…”

And his _dad’s_ , too, for that matter – although not for any length of time.

“It could be a particular alloy that he’s sensitive to,” the doctor said, shrugging. “It isn’t that uncommon. A severe reaction like _this_ is, though.”

“What do we do?” Pepper asked, also kneeling close to Peter to get a look at the finger, and offer support.

“Unfortunately, It’ll have to be cut off,” the doctor said. “I don’t see any other way.”

Peter squeaked, jerking his hand out of Tony’s grip, and tucking it, protectively, under his armpit.

“What?”

Tony looked almost as freaked out as Peter.

The doctor frowned at the twin reactions, and then offered up a slight smile, shaking his head.

“I meant the _ring_ ,” he clarified. “As swollen as the finger is, the ring won’t come off, and we don’t dare allow it to remain on his finger while the swelling goes down.”

“Oh.” Tony looked at Peter, reaching for the hand, once more. “Hear that, buddy? Just the ring. Not the finger.”

Peter reluctantly gave him the hand, but he sniffed.

“I don’t want them to cut it off,” he told his father. “Then I can’t wear it, no more.”

“If you’re allergic to it, you can’t wear it, anyway,” Tony pointed out, frowning when he got a better look at the finger, even with the metal still covering it. It was incredibly swollen, and the skin seemed to be rubbed off. “This wasn't hurting you, earlier?” he asked.

“It _was_ ,” Peter admitted. “A little.”

“Why didn’t you say something, honey?” Pepper asked, making a soft noise of commiseration when she saw the damage to his finger.

“I thought it might stop.”

Tony looked at the doctor.

“How do we do this?”

“We need something to cut the ring off,” he replied. “I’m not sure what will work for that – it’s not something I’ve ever had to do, truth be told. Once the ring is off, I’ll be able to get a better look at the damage done.”

“I probably have something that can get it off.” He kissed the little hand that he was holding, looking at Peter. “I’m going to go get a couple of tools. Pepper will keep you company, okay?”

Peter sniffed, again, and nodded.

“Okay.”

Tony left and Pepper sat down at the table. Peter moved to climb into her lap, wanting to be held, and Pepper was more than willing. He sniffed, again, as he put his head on her shoulder, tucking that little hand between them to keep it safe – maybe subconsciously to keep it away from the doctor.

“Poor guy,” Pepper crooned, brushing her fingers through his curls and smiling at the other two. “We’ll get you taken care of, soon.”

“I know.”

The doctor set a bag on the table, and opened it. The sound of medical equipment being pulled out and situated in front of the man drew Peter’s attention from how much his hand hurt, and he looked over to watch, still holding Pepper.

“What’s that do?” he asked, curiously.

He knew what bandages were for, of course, but there were a couple of little instruments and a bottle of something that smelled funny.

“We’ll take a look at your finger and decide how best to proceed once the ring is off and I can get a better look at it,” the doctor replied. “But this will clean the wound – depending on how badly the skin is damaged, and these will let me have a closer look. The bandages will be to keep your finger from getting infected.”

“We won’t need to take him to the hospital?”

“No, probably not,” the doctor told her, kindly. He knew exactly who she was, of course, and just how long she’d been in the role of mother. Talk about being thrown into the deep end right away. “A follow up visit to his regular pediatrician wouldn’t be a bad idea, but unless I see something worrisome when the ring is removed, I think I’ll be able to take care of things, here.”

As they were discussing it, Tony returned, carrying a small case of his own. He smiled – but wasn't surprised – to find Peter in Pepper’s lap, and he set his case on the table before taking the chair next to hers.

“We’ll try miniature cutters, first,” he said, pulling a pair of needle-nosed clippers out of the bag. “If that doesn’t work, then I’ll get the _chainsaw_.”

That made Peter smile. He knew better. Maybe when the doctor had said they were going to have to cut it off and he’d really thought that he’d meant his finger – or his hand – he’d been afraid. Not when Tony said it, though.

“Pepper won’t let you,” he pointed out. He looked at her. “Right, mom?”

She smiled, too, feeling her insides turn into mush. Yes, he’d said it the night before. But he’d been sleepy, then. This time it was the light of day, and besides, _Tony_ had been right there to hear it. Her eyes met his, and she saw that spark of happiness in them when he looked back at her, and then at his son.

“You’re right, honey,” she agreed. “No chainsaws.”

Tony rolled his eyes, making a show of being disappointed.

“Fine.” He held out his hand. “Let me see that finger, son.”

Peter gave him his hand, watching silently as the man he loved most in his world carefully eased the flat edge of the cutter between the least damaged looking part of Peter’s finger and the metal that was aggravating him so much, and snipped it with a single motion. The metal gave way and all of the adults leaned forward to get a better look.

“That’s as classic an indication of an allergic reaction as I’ve ever seen,” the doctor confirmed, scooting closer and taking Peter’s hand. “I guarantee there will be no piercings in your future,” he added, reaching for the cloth and the bottle.

Peter giggled at that, but then hissed in pain when the doctor began cleaning the finger. He almost jerked the hand away, but Tony and Pepper were both right there, soothing him with touches and gentle noises.

“Shhhh…” the doctor murmured, working as quickly as he could. “It won’t hurt for but a moment, and then it should start to go numb.”

“You’re good, buddy,” Tony added, watching what the doctor was doing.

The boy obviously didn’t agree, but he held still as the injured area was cleaned, minutely examined and then carefully bandaged.

“He’ll want to keep his hand dry for a few days,” they were told, as the doctor started putting his things away. “Follow up with your pediatrician if it doesn’t look any better by that time. Or, of course, you can call me.”

He was always at the tower, after all – and they paid him very well to be the onsite doctor.

“Thank you,” Pepper said, glancing at Peter. “Are you ready for lunch?”

Cheeks damp, but eyes no longer pained, the boy nodded.

“Yes.”

“Will you be keeping him the rest of the day?” the daycare director asked as they all stood up and Tony swept Peter into his arms for just a moment, before setting him on his feet.

She was aware of his schedule and knew that he normally had a Monday appointment – since he rarely came to daycare after school on Mondays.

“Yes,” Tony said, handing the damaged ring to Pepper, and picked up his small tool kit. “We’re keeping him out of school, _tomorrow_ , too, though, so he’ll be here.”

“Sounds good.”

They thanked the doctor, and the daycare director, and then Tony and Pepper walked with Peter between them back to Pepper’s office.

“How come I’m out of school, tomorrow?” Peter asked, curiously. “Is it crazy there?”

“We’ve had a couple of reports of people being in the building who have no reason to be there,” the billionaire admitted. “Pepper and I had a press conference, so the mystery is gone – and so is the race to be the first to break the story – but I’ll feel better if we give it another day or two to calm down.”

“Oh.” He looked at them, his uninjured hand holding the bandaged one. “Being married is _hard_ , isn’t it?”

They both smiled at that.

“I suppose it is,” Tony agreed. “But it’s worth the effort.”

Being a dad was, too, but Tony loved it – and he loved being married. It was amazing when he thought back to how he used to be.

Pepper brushed her fingers along the top of Peter’s head.

“Does your finger hurt?”

“A little. I’m okay.” He didn’t let it go, though. “I’m sorry I ruined the ring.”

She made a soft noise.

“I’m sorry the ring hurt you.”

“We can put it on a chain, or something,” Tony assured him. “A _non-metal_ chain,” he added, with a smile. “Maybe a leather thong. We’ll figure something out.”

“Okay.”

“I’m hungry,” he told his son. “Are you ready for lunch?”

“Yeah.”

“Pep?”

“Of course.”

“We’ll eat, and then Peter can help me in my workroom until it’s time to go see Dr. Wayne.”

The boy smiled, excitedly, and that made Tony feel good. It was the best thing that he could think of to get Peter’s mind off his finger, after all.

“What are we going to do?” Peter asked, eagerly.

“Secret Ironman things,” he said, mysteriously. “Come on. I want a hotdog.”

“Me, too!” Peter reached for Pepper’s hand. “Let’s go.”


	174. 174

They had lunch in the cafeteria.

Not because Tony _wanted_ to have lunch there. He _didn’t_. The cafeteria was where everyone who didn’t have access to the executive dining rooms ate their meals. The food was good, and it was – purposefully – inexpensive, so it was popular. Which was why _Peter_ wanted to eat there, and why Tony didn’t. It was crowded, and noisy.

Peter loved it. The people working behind the counter were friendly, and Pepper had been in there enough to know that they were _always_ friendly, and it wasn’t just because Peter was excitable and adorable and she and Tony were the ranking people in the company. Peter liked chatting with them while they gathered whatever food items were ordered, and he loved to people watch while he ate – almost always sitting in an out of the way corner.

“I don’t like having so many people around him,” Tony had complained once to Pepper – long before they’d though about being married, or even dating. “And besides, it’s hard to have a conversation when it’s so noisy.”

And Tony didn’t really care to socialize with the people in the tower – with very few exceptions, Pepper knew.

“If he’s going to own the company someday, then he’s going to need to be able to socialize with the people around him,” she’d reminded him. Peter was outgoing, for the most part – with people that he knew. And he loved to watch people around him as they interacted with each other. “It wouldn’t hurt for _you_ to get a little more practice at it, either,” she’d added.

He’d scowled at that.

“I don’t _need_ to interact with them.”

That’s what he had her for, after all. To be a buffer between the others and himself.

“Then do it to be a good example for your son,” had been the rejoinder.

And, so, they had lunch in the cafeteria sometimes. Usually when Peter requested it, specifically, but sometimes when Pepper wanted to see how things were going, or simply interact with the people that she didn’t have a chance to see very often any other time. _She_ enjoyed people watching, too, and she and Peter would often sit beside each other, watching the room, while Tony would pointedly put his back to it – _and_ the people in it.

Today, of course, the topic of pretty much everyone’s discussion was the wedding. Or the marriage, Tony thought, wondering if they could even refer to what they had as a _wedding_ , since there hadn’t actually been much of a ceremony. The counter people were all cheerful and some of the people eating greeted the three of them as they carried trays over to the corner table furthest from the rest of the diners. Peter was in a good mood, despite his finger hurting him, and he sat in the chair beside Pepper’s so they could see everyone.

The little boy shivered with excitement, even then, because he was sitting in the dining room with Tony and Pepper. Only they weren’t just Tony and Pepper, were they? _Mom and dad_. And they both wanted him to call them that. It was the most incredible thing. He was-

“What are you thinking about?” Tony asked, interrupting Peter’s train of thought.

He’d noticed that while Peter was looking across the room, he didn’t seem to be focusing on anything in particular, but to judge from his expression it wasn’t because his finger was bothering him.

The boy proved that speculation by smiling when he brought his attention back to them.

“I’m just happy.”

“Can I ask _why_?” Pepper asked him. “or is it a secret?”

“Because I have everything I want.”

Tony felt his insides turn to mush, because he was sure that Peter didn’t mean the hotdog and the chips on the plate in front of him.

“You can’t think of _anything_ else that you might need?” he asked – just to see what the response would be. “Or something that you want that we haven’t thought of?”

Peter shrugged, thinking about the great house, and the toys and all of the things that he had inside it. He thought of the treasures that he had in the safe behind the Batman poster, and JARVIS, the avengers and the SHIELD agents, and Ned. And Pepper. And _Tony_. Tony was everything that Peter could want. He had a dad, now. And a mom. Like Ned had said. There was only one thing that Ned had that Peter didn’t, really.

“A brother?”

Pepper choked on the sip of water that she’d been taking, spewing it indelicately over her glass and onto Peter and the plate in front of him. Tony snorted, amused at the sight, but a little panicked, too. He reached for a napkin the same time Pepper did, while Peter drew the back of his hand across his face, wiping it.

“Oh, honey,” Pepper said, using a napkin to wipe his face for him. “I’m sorry.”

“You okay, Pep?” Tony asked, handing her another napkin.

Luckily there hadn’t been too much water for her to spit on the boy. Good thing.

She nodded, still wiping Peter’s face.

“Yes. Are _you_?” she asked Peter, who was just grinning.

“Yeah.”

“Probably shouldn’t hold your breath on the brother thing,” Tony told his son. “Pep and I are still new at the _mom and dad_ thing, and we want to be able to concentrate on just _you_. Make sense?”

Peter nodded, unconcerned. He had everything he wanted, after all. He didn’t need a brother. And didn’t really want one. For the same reason that he didn’t want a puppy. It was just the only thing that he could think of when Tony had asked. Peter wanted them to himself.

“Yeah. I don’t need one,” he added, grinning. It wasn’t every day someone spit on you, after all. Especially Pepper, who was usually so sophisticated and in control. Besides, it was funny. “There just isn’t anything else I don’t have.”

Both adults looked relieved and Peter reached for his hotdog.

“Let me get you a new…” Pepper trailed off as the boy bit into it, not at all concerned that she’d spit water all over it, and she felt her stomach turn.

Tony smirked, understanding completely, but already much more accustomed to Peter’s lack of concern when it came to what he was eating. As long as it wasn’t green, he would eat anything, even something that had fallen on the floor, Tony knew from experience. It was gross, but probably a boy thing – even though Tony couldn’t ever remember doing anything like that, himself.

It didn’t mean that he hadn’t, but it was definitely proof that they weren’t ready for any other children – something that they’d already discussed and were being careful to avoid. One little guy was plenty for a superhero and the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company.

“He’s fine, Pep,” Stark assured her, picking up discarded napkins. “Aren’t you, Peter?”

“I’m great,” he agreed around a mouthful of hotdog.

Ugh.

Pepper smiled, though, but only picked at her own lunch after that, her appetite gone.

No, one son was more than enough for her.


	175. 175

Peter’s session with Dr. Wayne lasted longer than any of the previous ones. Long enough that Tony became concerned as he sat out in the waiting room. He eventually began pacing, despite the fact that he was sure it was a distraction to the receptionist. What was taking so long? He had paced himself over to the far side of the room when the door opened, and the doctor stuck his head out, looking for him.

“We’re ready for you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony crossed the room, entering the small office and looking for Peter, immediately – of course. If something was wrong, his son wasn’t too worried about it. The boy was smiling, sitting in his boosted chair, cheerfully, and holding his Lego Batman in one hand.

“You okay?” Tony asked, brushing his hand along the boy’s forehead, pushing the curls back as he sat down.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry it took so long,” Wayne said, also sitting down. “We had a lot to talk about. You and Peter have had a busy week.”

The billionaire nodded.

“That’s true.”

“Peter was telling me about Miss Potts – Mrs. _Stark_ ,” he corrected. “And how happy he is that you two are married.”

“So am I.” he hesitated. “You don’t think we moved to quick?” he asked – something that he normally would have asked _without_ Peter in the room, but that he was suddenly worried about. “Should we have given him more time to get used to the idea?”

“I’m _happy_ ,” Peter assured him.

“He’s happy,” Wayne echoed. “Are you going on a honeymoon?”

Tony smiled, relieved enough that he leaned back into the chair.

“Are you asking as Peter’s therapist? Or because you want to sell the information to the first news network that comes along with a checkbook?”

That made the doctor smile, too.

“No. My curiosity is professional, I assure you. Although I do want to see the miniature Ironman suit that you made him, sometime. A picture of the two of you together? Leaked to the press? That would pay for my daughter’s braces in and of itself.”

“I’ll send you one before the official photos get leaked,” Stark promised. “Make yourself a lot of money, if you can.” He didn’t mind; Pepper had already mentioned that it wouldn’t be a bad idea if _some_ photos of him and Peter were ‘accidentally’ leaked to the press – and Natasha and SHIELD had agreed. It would make sure people didn’t get the idea that Tony was hiding his son, completely. And would remind people that Peter was a little boy, yes, but had powerful friends and family watching over him at all times. “In answer to your question, we’re not in a big hurry to go anywhere and were thinking we’d wait until summer – when Peter’s out of school and can come with us.”

“I imagine it’s difficult, sometimes, to just get away.”

“Sometimes,” Tony agreed. “But a day trip out to the Avengers compound is always fun.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed.

“Well, he seems to be doing fine,” the doctor said. “Keep doing what you’re doing as far as the dreams, and feel free to call me if you have any questions or concerns.”

“I appreciate that.”

Tony was liking Wayne more and more – and not because his father was named Bruce.

“I’ll see you both next week – and see if Mrs. Stark can find time to join us, if she would. I’d like to have her input, at times.”

“We’ll do that.”

Tony stood and shook the man’s hand, while Peter slid out of the chair.

“Bye.”

><><><><>

“Anything I need to know?” Pepper asked, watching as Peter munched on a cookie.

They’d been back from the psychologist appointment long enough for her to have set out a snack for their son, but not much more. She was making an effort to clear that first hour after the appointment from her schedule – just to make sure she was there if something needed to be addressed. It wasn’t easy, especially on a Monday, but Peter was worth the effort.

“He’s happy,” Tony replied, also reaching for a cookie and looking pretty satisfied, himself.

“I told you I was,” Peter reminded them both.

“It doesn’t hurt to have a second opinion,” his father said, winking at Pepper. “Finish your snack and we’ll go to my workroom for a while until mom’s ready to leave.”

The boy smiled at the phrasing, but so did Pepper – although she didn’t make a big deal out of it. They were trying to make it normal, after all, and that meant mentioning it without making a scene.

“I won’t be too much longer,” she promised. “Tell me what Dr. Wayne said.”

While the two guys in her life told her about the appointment – and the after appointment conference, in Tony’s case – they finished the cookies and had a little quiet time, together. It was a nice change of pace for Pepper, really, and she could understand why Tony enjoyed the time after school that he shared with Peter. She listened with all the care that she would give someone in a billion dollar meeting, with the only difference being that the presenter in those meetings never presented themselves in front of her for a hug before they left.

Pepper hugged Peter and then kissed his cheek and then kissed Tony, as well, promising that she’d call him when she was ready to go.

“Come on, son,” Tony said, offering the boy his hand – which Peter took. “Let’s go see how JARVIS is doing with the new suit.”

Yes, he’d just _finished_ a suit, but there was always bigger and better on the horizon, wasn’t there?

“Okay.”

Peter was always willing to spend time with Tony. He didn’t care where. Spending it in the workroom? So much better!

Pepper watched them go, wiping the plate off before returning it to her desk. She smiled, thinking that Tony wasn’t the only one who was more domesticated, and then pressed the button that would tell her personal assistant that she was ready to start their next meeting.

><><><><><>

Despite not being at school, Peter did still have homework. His Math teacher and art teacher had both uploaded assignments for him. When they returned home, Tony had him work on them at the table while he and Pepper started dinner (a frozen lasagna and dinner rolls) and then relaxed at the table so they could be close at hand if he needed help.

The math assignment was somewhat complicated, and Tony was quick to step in and explain what the instructor was looking for, but the art assignment was to simply draw a picture of something interesting that had happened over the weekend. It was the same assignment that the other students had been given, and it wasn’t the first time that Peter had been assigned something like that. It wasn't to turn him into Picasso, Tony knew – and had explained to Peter. It was simply to allow him a chance to be creative.

Since he had plenty of interesting things to draw from the last three days, Peter set aside his completed math and went to fetch his crayons. The house was beginning to smell amazing as he drew the judge’s office, all of the avengers, himself, Pepper and Tony. Each person was distinctive enough that the boy didn’t need to actually label them, but Pepper went through each of them, anyway, just to be able to be part of the process.

“Are you coming in, tomorrow?” she asked Tony when Peter was sent off to put away the art materials and put his homework in his backpack for safe keeping.

“Yes. He’ll go to daycare, and I’m going to work on the nanotech.” He smiled. “I would let him help me, but he’s determined that each little robot needs a name.”

“ _Do_ they?”

“They’re tiny, Pep,” he said. “Really, _really_ , tiny. And they don’t actually exist beyond simulations, yet. They aren’t going to get names. He’d be at it for months to name each one – and he’d never be able to tell one from the other.”

“Does he know that?”

“Of course, he does.” But he was a little guy and tender-hearted, even when it came to nanobots. “He’ll probably figure out some kind of algorithm to name them, even if he’s in daycare.”

She smiled at that.

“Because he’s a genius.”

“That, he is.” Tony moved to get a couple of potholders so he could pull the lasagna out of the oven. “Don’t make any plans for us for tomorrow afternoon, though.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re going to go see Ned’s puppy.”

They had been planning on meeting the new puppy on Sunday, but the whole holy crap we’re going to get married thing had gotten in the way of that. Ned had been incredibly understanding, of course – and really excited for Peter – but they definitely needed to reschedule.

“Am I invited?”

“Do you want puppy breath and drool?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re invited.” He carried the lasagna to the table, and Pepper brought a serving spoon and the rolls, which were piping hot. “We’ll go there straight from the tower.”

“We could bring dinner,” she suggested.

“Good plan,” he approved.

“What’s a good plan?” Peter asked, coming over to find his chair at the table, and smiling at them, cheerfully.

“We’re going to stuff you full of food and then watch a movie,” Tony told him. “What do you think?”

“That’s a good plan,” Peter agreed. “Pepper, too?”

“Of course.”

Pepper smiled at that, too.

It was nice to be wanted.


	176. 176

Peter wasn't the only one to drift off during the movie. Not only was it intentionally a movie that was fun but didn’t require a lot of thought – meaning that it would put Peter to sleep – but it had been a long weekend, and a long day. They were _all_ tired, really. Tony woke when the movie ended, his gaze automatically going to check on Peter.

The little boy was asleep beside him, nestled into his side. Pepper was on the other side of Peter, and she, too, had fallen asleep. She was leaning against Tony, one arm around Peter and her cheek on Tony’s shoulder. She opened her eyes when he moved.

“Hmmm?”

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

“Movie’s over?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at Peter, too, and smiled, tenderly.

“He didn’t make it, either?”

“No.” Stark leaned over enough so he could kiss her. “I’m going to put him to bed. Why don’t you go ahead and go to bed, too?”

She looked at the remains of their popcorn and hot chocolate on the coffee table. Snacks that they’d consumed during the beginning part of the movie.

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not.”

Pepper eased herself out from Peter’s side, brushing her palm against Tony’s cheek.

“Don’t stay up too late.”

He smiled. An order that might have been annoying coming from his CEO, but was wonderful coming from his wife.

“I won’t.”

He watched as she stopped in Peter’s room and Tony knew that she was pulling the blankets back on the bottom bunk to make it easier for him to put their son into his bed. Then she vanished into their bedroom and closed the door, softly, behind her. Tony turned his attention to the sleeping child next to him, and gathered him into his arms, carefully.

Not too surprisingly, Peter roused – although Tony knew it didn’t, necessarily, mean that he was awake. He tensed, but that was about all.

“It’s morning?”

“Not even close,” the billionaire crooned. “Close your eyes.”

Peter rested his head on Tony’s shoulder, going limp, once more.

“I’m not sleepy…”

“I know, buddy.”

Tony carried him into his room, appreciating when JARVIS turned the lights on, but muted them to keep from startling Peter into wakefulness. He put Peter to bed, leaning over and holding his cheek against the boy’s for a long moment, giving him a chance to decide if he was going to fall back to sleep or wake up enough to negotiate a story.

Peter fell asleep, and Tony smiled, watching him for a moment. Then he adjusted the blankets and left the room, closing the door to keep from waking him.

“Are we taking bets if he wakes up, tonight?” he asked his AI as he walked back to the living room to start picking up dishes.

_“If he does, and it is simply the normal restlessness, I’ll tell him as story and get him back to sleep. If it’s his finger hurting, or something, he may well end up in your bed.”_

“Good point.” Tony carried the dishes to the kitchen sink. “He sure is a fun guy, isn’t he?”

_“Not at all the menace that you once thought.”_

Stark rolled his eyes.

“He probably _is_ ,” he corrected. “We just haven’t come to that point, yet. Luckily, I’ll have Pepper to back me up, now.”

_“And me.”_

Tony nodded, setting the dishes in the sink, but turning his full attention to his AI.

“Always you, JARVIS.”

 _“Are you happy, sir?”_ the AI asked.

The billionaire looked around the house, seeing the artwork stuck to the fridge, and the Batman toaster, as well as the two coffee cups and the ‘World’s best dad’ mug that Peter had made him.

“I am,” he admitted. “More than I ever thought I could be. It’s crazy, isn’t it? Me with a wife, and a son…”

 _“A little overdue, perhaps,”_ JARVIS said. _“But the timing wasn’t there, yet.”_

“What do you mean?”

_“Nothing, sir. You should go to bed. Tomorrow is going to be another long day – and Peter might, yet, change his mind about wanting a puppy once he meets Ned’s.”_

“Ugh.” Tony wasn’t worried, though, and he nodded, double-checking to make sure the coffee pot was set for the morning. “I’m not too worried.”

Besides, if Peter wanted a puppy – or a cat, or a fish, or even a freaking dolphin to put in the swimming pool – then Tony would make sure that he got one.

 _“Good night, sir,”_ the AI said, turning the lights down low as Tony walked to his and Pepper’s room.

“Good night, JARVIS.”

><><><>

“Everything good?” Pepper asked, already in bed by the time he joined her.

“He told me that he wasn’t tired,” Stark said, smiling. “And then he fell asleep.”

She smiled, too.

“Did he mention his finger?”

“No.” Tony sat down on the edge of the bed to lose his slippers. “He wasn’t favoring it, either. We already know that he heals quickly,” he reminded her. “It should look better in the morning.”

He intended to take a look, though, just to make sure.

“We’ll still follow through with his pediatrician, though?”

“Definitely.” Tony slid into the bed next to her, cuddling close. “That’s what good parents do, right?”

Pepper shook her head, still amazed that she was able to carry that label, now – and more amazed that he was. And that he did it so willingly.

“Right.”

>><><><><><><>

Peter woke with a start, as usual.

He sat up, quickly, in the bed, looking around.

“JARVIS?”

 _“It’s fine,”_ the AI soothed, immediately. _“You're in your bed, and it’s the middle of the night.”_

“Oh.” The boy slid out from under the warm covers, and climbed up to the top bunk so he could look out the window as he slid under those blankets instead. “It’s snowing, again.”

_“Yes. How does your finger feel?”_

Peter looked down at the bandaged digit, and wiggled it like he might a loose tooth.

“It’s okay.”

 _“You should go back to sleep, now,”_ JARVIS told him. _“So you’re refreshed, tomorrow. Tony will want to check your finger, too.”_

“Is he sleeping?”

_“He is.”_

“And Pepper?”

_“Yes. They’re fine.”_

Peter rested his head against the pillow, feeling a surge of happiness.

“I’m pretty lucky, JARVIS.”

_“How so? Because you have Tony?”_

“ _And_ Pepper,” Peter said, smiling. “Yeah. I’m probably the luckiest guy in the world.”

_“I think that your father might disagree.”_

“Why?”

_“Because he would say that he is the lucky one – to have you.”_

That made Peter feel good.

“And Pepper.”

 _“Of course.”_ There was a moment of silence. _“Go to sleep, Peter.”_

“I’m not sleepy.”

_“Then go sleep with your father and mother.”_

The AI knew that being snuggled between them would calm the boy enough to put him right back to sleep.

“They won’t care…?”

_“No.”_

It was still a new thing to them, too, after all.

“Okay.”

Excited, Peter rolled out of the blankets and dropped, easily, to the bottom bunk, and then to the floor. As the boy searched for his bear, JARVIS sent Tony and Pepper a gentle wake up to allow them to make a place for the boy. Peter headed out of his bedroom, and JARVIS turned on a gentle nightlight – more for Tony and Pepper when their bedroom door opened – and then the AI settled back into passive mode, watching the little family as they gathered in the large bed and the little boy was settled between the two adults.

Then the house went still.


	177. Epilogue

“We must be out of our minds…”

Tony smiled at Barton, who was watching the three boys standing in the middle of the clearing listening to Steve, who was showing them – and Sam – how to put up the tent they were going to be sleeping in for the next four days. The big man clearly knew what he was doing, just like he’d told them he did, because the little domicile was taking shape, and the slight breeze that was blowing in from the lake wasn’t budging it.

“Why do you say that?”

“How many times have you been camping, Tony?” Clint asked, not looking worried, but definitely amused.

“Counting this time?”

“Yeah.”

“Once.”

The archer made a ‘there you go’ motion with his hand.

“See? I’ve never been, either. Sam said that he’s gone a few times, and none of the boys have. We’re city slickers, and we probably should have elected to go to your cabin in the boonies.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Tony wasn’t worried. Not about the camping trip, and not about Peter.

It was June, now, and he’d been a married man for three months and a father for just over six, now. Things had settled in nicely, too. Peter was still not always sleeping through the night, of course – the psychologist wasn’t worried, telling Tony and Pepper that there wasn’t an immediate solution and that time was going to be the sure, if there was one – but he was much more secure in his place in Tony’s world.

Occasionally – very rarely – JARVIS would warn Tony and Pepper that their bed was about to become a bed for three, and sure enough, a few minutes later Peter would come into their room. He never knocked, because he knew that if JARVIS said it was alright, then it had to be alright. He’d climb into the bed, silently, and would find the spot that he loved so much. Right between Tony and Pepper. It was a ritual that Tony would ask if he was okay, but those rare times that he needed to be comforted, Peter would simply tell them that he had a dream, would cuddle against one of them, and then simply go back to sleep.

Mother’s Day had come and gone, and they’d celebrated the day with breakfast in bed for Pepper and then a day of the two guys in her life pampering her, outrageously. She hadn’t been allowed to do anything for herself, and Peter had been especially cheerful, since it was – in a way – his day, too. He had a mother, now, to celebrate Mother’s Day with, and he’d been so excited when Tony had picked him up from daycare the afternoon that Ella and the other staff in the place had told him about the upcoming holiday. Excited enough that he’d hugged himself when the billionaire had smiled and suggested that they would have to go shopping the next day and find his mom the perfect gift to celebrate.

Father’s Day was next, Tony reminded the two of them much later that Sunday, when they were all three lounging on the sofa getting ready to watch a chick flick, because that was what Pepper had requested and since it was Mother’s Day, they’d watch whatever she wanted. He pointed out that he wanted something exotic and dangerous. Pepper had raised an eyebrow, amused, and had suggested that since Peter was going to be out of school for summer holiday by then, why didn’t he take his son camping?

Peter’s eyes had widened, and he’d turned to his father, hopefully.

“At a hotel?” Tony had asked, forcing himself not to smile at the way Peter groaned.

“I think not,” she’d said. “I remember Steve mentioning something about a camping trip out to a lake. Why don’t you get together with him, and see what he would suggest?”

So he had. Not that day, of course, but the next weekend he took Peter and Ned out to the compound for an overnight stay, and brought it up with not only Steve, but Sam, Natasha, and Nick. Romanoff had immediately bowed out – especially when she found out that Pepper wasn’t going to go.

“If it’s a Father’s Day thing, then make it just the guys,” she’d told them. “I’ll help plan it, if you need some ideas, but I think it’d be more fun for you guys to do it.”

And she didn’t have any desire to go camping – although she refused to admit it.

“And you’re afraid of being eaten by a racoon, or something,” Sam guessed, smiling, and looking excited at the idea of a camping trip – at least they all assumed it wasn’t excitement at the idea of Natasha being attacked by angry wildlife.

“Of course not,” she’d scoffed, her arms wrapping around Peter, who had been in her lap. “Someone has to stay here, though, and mind the store.”

“Nick?”

“I’m going to mind the store with Romanoff.”

“Can I come?” Ned had asked, excited.

And why wouldn’t he be? A camping trip with the Avengers?

“If Eric says it’s alright,” Tony had replied. “Of course you can.”

“Yes!”

Ned was sure that his dad wouldn’t say no.

“You might mention it to _Clint_ ,” Natasha added. “He and Cooper would probably be interested.”

And so they had.

It wasn’t Father’s Day weekend. There just hadn’t been time to do things right and have the trip that weekend – and Tony’s schedule was a bit full the Monday after, and he’d already mentioned that it should be more than just an overnighter – or two. He wanted at least a few days, just because Peter had mentioned that he’d never been camping, and so had Ned.

Any and all mention of the trip had been kept fiercely guarded, and JARVIS had closely monitored the web to make sure it stayed that way, deleting any search histories that were made by the group that might lead some enterprising adventurer/reporter to their secluded spot by the lake. Eric had signed off on the trip, reminding Ned that he was to listen – and not get eaten by anything - but he hadn't allowed the boy to take his puppy, insisting that she would be left out being the only female. Peter's former foster father was invited to come, too, of course, but he'd declined, since they'd just brought in another boy and he wanted to be there to help settle the youngster into the household.

Tony and Peter had swung by to get Ned that morning before heading out to the compound to meet up with the others and the drive had been animated, with the boys excitedly asking Tony all about the camping spot – even though they already knew as much as he did.

Now here they were, and Steve was proving to be far more adept at the whole camping thing than Tony or Sam – which wasn’t that surprising, Stark pointed out. The guy was old enough to be an actual founder of the Boy Scouts, right? Clint had smirked, but a quick query to JARVIS had placed the dates pretty close to each other. Close enough that Tony had simply turned the tents over to Rogers, with the boys and Sam as his helpers. He and Clint unpacked everything that wouldn’t be stored in the vehicles (to keep bears from attacking their supplies) and then had waited until the rest was stowed into the now erected tents before calling the boys over to the fireplace.

“We’ve got some ground rules,” Tony told them as they gathered around.

He waited to make sure he had all their attention, and that the other adults were listening, too.

“What rules?” Ned asked, curiously. “No playing with the fire? I was already told I can’t do that.”

“That’s a good rule,” Tony conceded. “No playing with the fire,” he told Peter and Cooper.

“Okay.”

Peter hugged himself, excitedly.

The last months had been amazing. He had more hugs and support than he could ever remember having in his life. He felt safe, and had even taken the little treasures that were stored in the safe behind Batman out of the envelop so some of the photos could be framed and hung on his walls, or put on his dresser. Even better, he was going to be spending time that summer at the compound, where Steve and the others were going to see if they could help him figure out how to actually climb the walls that he was so good at sticking to. His life was amazing. Pepper was amazing and so was Tony.

Tony smiled at the boy.

“No going in the water without one of us with you,” he said.

The boys all nodded at that. Peter had done swimming lessons at the YMCA only the month before, so he was comfortable in the water, and the pool in their backyard was going to be filled, soon, but he knew that he’d be in a lot of trouble if he tried swimming – or wading – without supervision. At home, or at the lake.

“Okay.”

“Don’t wander off,” Clint told them. “And if we’re out in the woods and you get lost, what do you do?”

“We stay put,” Peter said, looking at Tony. “So you know where to find us.”

The billionaire nodded.

“Exactly.”

“What else?” Ned asked.

“Don’t get eaten by anything.”

The boys laughed at that, since all three of them had heard that advice from various parents and siblings ever since the trip had started to take shape.

“Is that it?” Steve asked, looking at the others.

“I think so,” Tony confirmed. “Make sure you have a good time, too,” he said. “Because we might want to do it, again, sometime.”

There was a lot of murmured agreement, and the little group broke up a bit as they all tried to decide what they wanted to do, first. Peter went over to Tony, looking up at him, his brown eyes excited.

“Do you want to go for a hike?” he asked. “We can look for something to bring back for mom.”

Pepper had told them to bring her back a souvenir before they’d left the house that morning.

Stark swept the boy into his arms, hugged him for just a moment, and then hung him upside down, making him giggle.

“Yeah, son,” he said. “Why don’t we go find something to take back for mom?”

Life was very good, after all – and it was so much better than it ever had been, as far as he was concerned.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is! A domestic Irondad fic. I really enjoyed writing it, and I know it isn't something that you guys are used to from me - for the most part. It was a good time for it, though. Thanks for the reviews and kudos and kind words.  
> I don't usually self promote, but someone told me that I should, so here is a link to my patreon if there is any interest.  
> https://www.patreon.com/neuropsyche  
> The next story from me will be Starker, but I loved writing this one!


End file.
